


Stellar

by badvibrations, taronegertin (ragequitkat)



Category: Billionaire Boys Club (2018)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Drug Use, F/M, Fingering, Light Bondage, Mentions of Murder, Public Sex, Reader-Insert, Unprotected Sex, alcohol use, dom/sub elements, taron egerton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badvibrations/pseuds/badvibrations, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragequitkat/pseuds/taronegertin
Summary: You are hired on to work as the receptionist for the BBC, and immediately find yourself drawn to the charming and handsome Dean Karny.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is made from the combined effort of tdegerton and taronegertin. We have been working on this together for some time now and finally have decided to post it. You're in for a long ride.

You take a deep breath in. You need this job. The doors to the office are all glass, then another set of doors of solid dark wood lead into the open lobby. There’s a desk where you’re hoping you’ll be sitting, and a man is hanging up three big gold letters, BBC.

“Hey, you must be…” you hear the voice recite your name, probably reading it from a paper, you turn to see a tall man, “right?”

He’s pretty, and about the same age as you, maybe a year or two older. He gives you a smile and extends a hand, moving the small piece of paper into his pocket.

“Joe Hunt.”

You take his hand and introduce yourself. “Could you tell me what exactly BBC is?”

“Would you like the whole sales pitch, or just a summary?” Joe gestures for you to walk with him.

“Summary will do for now,” you follow him, passing a few more boys, surprisingly, all about the same age. As he tells you what exactly they do, you see another boy on the phone. His polo collar is popped and his jacket’s sleeves are pushed to his elbows.

“You know that’s worth way more than 50K. I can guarantee y-- No, I can give you a small discount, 80K.” He’s frowning, but then when he catches your eye as you walk by, he smiles.

Your heart skips a beat and you feel your lips go dry.

“That’s my partner, Dean Karny. He’s making a sale right now, so I’ll introduce you later,” Joe tells you and opens a door to a big office. One you can only assume is his. He takes a seat behind his desk and gestures to the seat in front of him for you to take a seat.

“So. Have any experience being a secretary?”

“Yes, Mr. Hunt. I--”

“Please, call me Joe.”

“Joe,” you correct yourself. “I brought my resume with me. As you can see, I’ve done some secretary work for a hair salon.”

“You’re from the Valley?”

You nod, knowing this was probably the warning bell. They wouldn’t want a girl barely scraping by to work in an upscale financial firm. Joe nods and you’re bracing yourself for the polite rejection.

“I’m from Van Nuys.” He reads the rest of your resume, silence filling the room for a moment. “You went to UC Berkeley? What did you major in?”

“English,” you mutter. “I know, a silly major, I don’t know what I was looking to get out of it.”

“Well,” he sets the paper down and looks at you. Here comes the rejection. “You’re qualified. How does eight an hour sound?”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping slightly. That was well above the minimum wage. You had been expecting a few dollars less, but instead you lick your lips before nodding.

“That sounds great,” you tell him and watch a smile grow across his lips. 

“Excellent! I’ll have Kyle show you to your desk, your paperwork should be there but no rush. Have a good first day.”

“Thank you, Joe, I’ll see you later.”

Your head is down, eyes frantically reading over the paperwork that Joe had instructed you to complete. You anxiously tap your pen against the desk, mentally kicking yourself for seeing this simple task as something monumental.

_ You need this job _ , you think. _ Don’t stress about something so trivial, and make yourself look foolish. _

“You really look like you’re going through something there, princess.” You lift your gaze to find Dean sitting in a chair beside your desk, grinning widely at you. Immediately, you feel your cheeks flush — _ damn, he’s gorgeous. _“My name’s Dean,” he says, rolling his chair closer and holding out his hand. “Dean Karny.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dean,” you respond, telling him your name as you take his hand. Dean grips your hand more firmly, raising it to his mouth so he could press a soft kiss to the back of your hand; he repeats your name and you swear you have never heard it sound so good.

“Believe me when I say, the pleasure is all mine,” he says, smoothly. You bite your lip, retracting your hand from his and you look back to your paperwork. “Joe told me a little bit about you,” he says, relaxing back in the chair enough to make the springs squeak as he rocked thoughtfully. “Said you’re from the Valley.”

“Well, I would hope that there’s more to me than my zip code,” you say, not looking up from your paper. When Dean does not respond, you cut him a glance to see an amused grin on his face. “I’m sorry,” you say, hurriedly. “That must have been...I’m sure I sounded rude.”

“No offense taken, princess,” he grinned. “I know that there’s much more to you than where you’re from, and we have plenty of time for you to tell me all about it.” He stands from his seat, straightening out his jacket and running a hand through the wave in his hair. “I’d like those on my desk by the end of the day,” he says, pointing to your papers before he turned and left you to yourself once again.

You watch his retreating figure, the way he walks with such confidence, spouting quick riffs at each person he passes. Ordinarily, you would find nothing appealing about someone so arrogant, but you remind yourself that he is your boss and you are meant to respect him. In the back of your mind, however, you feel the urge to get to know everything you can about him, in all of his cocky, status-obsessed glory.

You finish your paperwork about an hour before you were to leave for the day. You organize them before standing to go to Dean’s desk. Your heart is racing, and you’re not sure why you’re so nervous. It wasn’t a big deal.

Standing outside his office, you pause to study Dean for a moment. He’s pouring over some papers and writing some notes every so often. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and his jaw is set. _ God, he’s so gorgeous _. You can just imagine running your hands through his hair, his hands pulling you close and leaning in with a smirk, ready to kiss you...

You knock on the doorframe before he catches you staring.

“Hey,” he smiles when he catches your eye, “come on in, princess.”

“I finished the paperwork,” you tell him, crossing to the desk and holding them out.

Dean takes them and flips through them, furrowing his brow. “You forgot something.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, what did I forget?”

He looks back up with a smug smile, “your phone number?” You don’t reply right away, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes at him or blushing and giving away your attraction. He sets the stack of papers down. “Or, if you’re not busy tonight, I’d like to take you out.”

“Dean, I’m flattered.” Your heart is racing again and you can feel your palms begin to sweat, you have to take a deep breath to keep your calm and collected act up. “That’s probably not a good idea though. It’s very unprofessional.”

He purses his lips, nodding once, you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he thinks. “We don’t run like other businesses, it would be okay if you do decide that it’s a good idea. It’s definitely a fun one.”

“Sorry, Dean.” You take a step back, “anything else?”

He shakes his head, “no, you can go back to your desk. I’ll see you later, princess.”

You remind him of your name, firmly. But instead of saying anything, he winks at you and looks back down at his work. You quickly walk back to your desk, trying to wave the image of his wink out of your mind. But any time you close your eyes, you can see it. And you blush.

* * *

  
  


You’ve been at BBC for a week now. It was an easy job and you really enjoyed every moment of it. Though it had become clear to you that the boys really liked having some eye candy around. It didn’t bother you too much, the only one who would actually hit on you was Dean.

He had switched the nicknames up, not only ‘princess’ anymore. You were able to ignore most of them, but there was once that he called you ‘sugar’. It felt like a punch of arousal in your lower stomach. You were sure he’d seen your reaction because his smugness seemed to double.

You’re reading through a book you brought with you to lunch. You had decided to treat yourself with a lunch away from the office instead of warming up leftovers. You hold a fork to your mouth, but try to keep your eyes on the words.

“Hey, doll, fancy seeing you here.”

You look up to see Dean smiling at you and standing behind the chair opposite from you.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, that’s not very _ professional _, sweetheart,” he teases with a toothy grin.

You give him a smile back and mark your place in your book, “would you like to join me?”

“I don’t want to impose,” he tells you but is already pulling the chair back and setting his bag down. The waitress walks over to hand you your water refill. Dean smiles at her, “could I order something please?”

“Of course,” she smiles at him and takes out her notepad. She was checking him out unabashedly, “what would you like?”

“I’ll have whatever my lovely date is having.”

You roll your eyes. The waitress is gorgeous, so you’re surprised he wasn’t flirting with her instead. As soon as she walks away, his attention is back onto you. 

“Did you follow me from the office?” You narrow your eyes at him.

He shrugs a shoulder and bites his lip, looking down to your lips and back to your eyes. “How are you liking BBC so far?”

“I like it,” you answer and take another bite of your salad. “I enjoy the company.”

“You flatter me.”

You blush and look back down. You can’t figure why Dean would be interested in you, why he’s flirting with you. “You’re welcome.”

“So I know where you’re from, but not much else about you, princess. Joe told me you like English?”

“It’s what I majored in, yes.”

“And I can see your book is well loved.” He leans across the table to squint at the title, “_ Catcher in the Rye _?”

“It’s good,” you tell him, “you want to borrow it?”

“I’ll let you finish it first.”

You feel your heart soar a little, “I’ve read it before.”

“I’d love to borrow it, then.” He reaches over to take it from your outstretched arm.

For a brief moment, you become distracted by the way his fingers brush over the worn edges of the book, flipping it over in his grasp to study the back cover. You are enamored by the way his face scrunches as he reads the back cover, lips moving slightly as he does so. With a sharp inhale, you break your gaze from him, and quickly take a sip of your drink -- for some reason, you find yourself oddly parched.

“Sounds like a riot,” he says, finally, setting the book down onto the table. “Can’t wait to start it.” You nod, forcing a quick smile onto your lips, just as the waitress returns with Dean’s order. It surprises you slightly that he still does not give a second glance to the girl as she walks away; it was plain to you that she was beautiful, yet it would appear that Dean was oblivious to her. “So, tell me about yourself,” he says, taking a bite of his food.

“Like what?” you ask with uncertainty.

“Anything you want,” he says. You notice it more now than you have at work -- Dean’s voice is intoxicating. His tone is somehow simultaneously assertive and inviting, with a distinct rasp that draws you in more. Something about his voice is so inviting that you do not realize that you are staring at him, thinking deeply about the way he speaks. “Ground control to Major Tom,” Dean says, with a laugh, pulling you back from your thoughts “I know I’ve got a pretty face, but if you keep staring, you’ll make me blush.”

“S-Sorry,” you mutter, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “I got lost in my thoughts for a minute. That was rude, I’m so sorry.” When you look back to him, you notice a small smile on his face, something different this time -- far less smug, and more genuine.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, princess,” he says. “I interrupted your lunch. I should have let you be alone with your thoughts.”

“Not at all,” you reply, hurriedly. “I enjoy your company.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grins.

You push your food around for a moment before speaking up again, “I collect classic books. That’s something you wouldn’t have known about me.”

“Like this one?” He gestures to the book next to him. 

“Yeah, that one was given to me as a high school graduation gift from my dad. I didn’t really know him, he left me and my mom when I was about three. He came back into my life around the beginning of my sophomore year, and he realized I really liked the book.”

Dean seems to hang on to every word, eyes never leaving yours as you speak, really letting you feel at ease and trust him. He nods as you’re done speaking, and notices your gaze shift slightly to the book.

“I promise to take care of it,” he tells you in a soft voice.

“I have no doubt about that.”

He smiles again and takes another bite of his food, “where’d you go to high school?”

“Nowhere special. I went to a regular public school in San Fernando.”

“I bet it was at least a little special.”

You shake your head, electing to not respond to that and instead continue to tell him about yourself. Only child, having to babysit the awful neighbor kids to save up for college, working extra hard on homework and writing essays for scholarships, feeling so accomplished when you graduated, and finally moving out on your own.

“You live on your own? In the Valley?” He frowns, “and you leave the office _ how _late?”

“I, uh, I leave around 5:30 or 6 every day.”

“That’s terrifying. Ya know, there are some creeps out there, princess, you gotta be careful.” He looks concerned, actually, genuinely, concerned. 

“I look out for myself, usually,” you nod. “Though it does get worse closer to winter since the sun sets earlier.”

“I’m gonna drive you home tonight.”

“Oh, no,” you protest, “it’s so out of the way, isn’t it? I’ll be fine on the bus.”

“I insist.” His tone shifts slightly more to the assertive side, and his eyes are pleading you to just let it go. You find yourself nodding, and he smiles.

“Thank you, Dean, that’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome, doll.” He takes a sip of his drink and as he sets it back down, he quirks an eyebrow at you. “How did you hear about the BBC anyway?”

“There was an ad in the newspaper.”

He nods, “and you just thought you’d go for it?”

“I needed a job.” You try to relax, he’s not asking you anything strange. He just seems to have a genuine interest in you.

“I’m glad you did.”

“You know, so am I.”

The smug smirk returns to his face as he flags your waitress down and asks for the bill. She slips away before you can correct him about the separate checks. He’s already pulling out a wad of cash from his bag, and you’re a little stunned at it. 

He catches you staring and lets out a chuckle, “don’t worry, doll, it’s on me.”

“No, you don’t have to—“

“Really, it’s fine. I can write it off as a business expense if it means that much to you.”

You bite your lip, not sure what his plan is here, but you just mutter a thank you. The silence seems to be too much and he begins to talk about how he met Joe for the first time. The way he sets up his story has you mesmerized, wanting to hear every word.

You soon find out that it’s impossible to completely listen when you notice how fixated you are on the way his lips move. You can tell they’re nice, soft. You wouldn’t mind tasting them.

All of a sudden, you notice he’s stopped talking and he’s just watching you, fascinated almost.

“Way to keep it professional, princess.”

You can’t control your blush, you have to turn your head, “I, um, I’m s-sorry. Um. I didn’t mean to stare.”

He doesn’t respond, just turns to hand the waitress the money. He stands and tells her to keep the change, then picks up his bag and your book.

“See you back at the office, sweetheart,” he tells you with a wink before he’s off. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had started to hold. You know you’ve gotten yourself into trouble now.

* * *

At the end of the day, you start picking up your desk, cleaning up to leave for the day. Suddenly, two arms drape over the desk and you look up to see Dean smiling at you.

“Ready to go, doll?”

“Almost,” you smile back at him. “I just have to grab my coat.”

He watches you gather your stuff and gestures for you to walk out the door first. You can almost feel the stare on your ass, but when you turn your head, you don’t catch him. _ Perfect gentleman. _

“Which one is your car?”

He points to one close to the front of the lot. A shiny green convertible waits for the two of you. You think about how typical it is for Dean to have such an expensive car, but you keep the thought to yourself as you both enter the vehicle.

Most of the ride is quiet. After giving him directions to your home, the two of you exchange idle chitchat; the conversation is very pleasant, as you expect and as you near your apartment, you find yourself saddened at the thought of him leaving.

“That’s it right there,” you say, gesturing to the building.

When Dean pulls into the parking lot, you feel slight embarrassment at the sight of the rundown apartment building. Ordinarily, you would not mind the area you live in, but since you started at BBC, you could not help the inferiority that you felt.

“Thank you so much for driving me, Dean,” you say, as he parks. “I know it was completely out of your way, so it was very kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he grins, shifting to face you and places his arm on the back of your seat. “Couldn’t have you taking the bus home alone; my mother raised me better than that.” You chuckle at his statement, but when Dean smiles, your gaze becomes fixated on his mouth. Again, you think about how soft his lips look, and how much you want to feel them on yours..._ and on your neck. _

When his smile fades and he traces his tongue — so pink and intoxicating as you think about it dragging over your skin — over his lips, you swallow hard, and make eye contact with him again. The desire to kiss him is becoming unbearable, and his eyes give it away; he knows what you are thinking.

“Okay,” you gasp, looking away from him and gathering your belongings. “Thanks again for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As you reach for the handle of the car door, you pause and give him another look, finding another beautiful grin on his lips.

“Sweet dreams, sugar.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BBC decides to celebrate landing their newest client, and Dean extends the invitation to you, too.

You smile at the man who opens the door for you, giving him a quick thank you as you hurry into the building. Slipping your bag from your arm and removing your coat, you notice a book sitting on your desk — immediately, your interest is piqued. After you hang your belongings on the coat rack you trek back to your desk and grab the book.

“I thought I’d return the gesture; give you one of my favorites while I’m holding yours hostage.” You know the rasp of Dean’s voice all too well, and with a small smile, you look up to where he stands beside your desk, hands in his pockets. “It seemed only fair,” he adds, with a grin.

“Stephen King?” you ask, flashing the cover to him. “You didn’t strike me as the horror type.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, princess.”

“I’m sure,” you reply, surprising yourself with the sultry tone of your voice. It is not lost on Dean, as he quirks an eyebrow and straightens his back at your words. “Even still,” you mumble, trying to recover from your inadvertent flirting. “I wouldn’t have pegged your favorite to be The Stand. The concept of a post-apocalyptic world doesn’t seem like something that would keep Dean Karny’s attention for too long. I know the first time I read it, I almost lost interest.”

“Oh,” Dean says, the smile slowly fading from his lips. “You’ve already read it.”

“I have,” you nod. “My favorite character is Nick; his story is the most captivating, and tragic.” You stare at Dean, awaiting his response.

“Okay, you got me,” he says, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve never read it before.” A small grin starts to spread across your lips at his admission, and you swear there is a hint of pink tinting his cheeks.

“I figured,” you reply. “I mean, the spine hasn’t even been cracked yet.” Dean shakes his head as he realizes his mistake, and you cannot help but laugh at how embarrassed he appears.

“I stopped at B. Dalton yesterday after lunch,” he continues. “I bought two copies; my plan was to read it while you did so that when you finished it, we could talk about it.”

“It’s, like, almost a thousand pages, Dean.”

“That long, huh?” he asks, his face displaying genuine shock. For a moment, you stare at Dean, watching how he so quickly went from self-assured to an uncertain wreck in a matter of moments. Something about this is endearing, captivating you even more and pulling you in. “Well, at least I have your full attention again,” he rasps. “I think I could get used to you looking at me like that, sugar.” At the pet name, a jolt shocks your body, and you recall that you are at work; you set the book on your desk and smile warmly at Dean.

“I should probably get to work,” you say. “Thank you for the book, Dean. I haven’t read it in a while, so I’ll certainly read it again now that I have it.”

“No problem,” he nods, clearly hiding his amusement. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The weekend was right around the corner, you were itching for a slight break from Dean. Every day was hard to be around him, he had a magnetic pull to you. Every morning, there would be a few moments of chit chat and you were always the one to have to tell him that there was work to be done.

Most days, when he would go out to lunch for a meeting, he would offer to either bring you along or bring you something back. You always declined, telling him you had something in the fridge. When he would come back from a not so great meeting, he’d pretend to collapse on your desk and pout at you. Even though it was adorable, you would pretend to shoo him away.

He had offered to drive you home again, a couple times, but you politely refused. He would frown and send you home a little earlier to take a ‘safer’ bus.

It’s Friday, near the end of the day, when he walks up to your desk with an extra bit of excitement.

“Hello, Dean,” you smile up at him before looking back down at your work. Joe’s schedule had started to build up more and more as they took on more investors.

“Hey there, princess. Got any weekend plans?”

You bite your lip and shake your head, half hoping he would ask you out and half hoping he was just curious. He walks around to the side of your desk, pulling up a chair.

“The boys and I are going to the club tonight after work for a little celebration. And we must have all of our team there. You’ll come, right?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You just told me that you don’t have plans.” He has a look of amusement painted across his face. You let out a sigh, knowing that he was going to try to win this argument. But you wouldn’t give up easily.

“I’m not dressed for a club, I can’t go like this.”

“I will personally take you home so you can change.”

You raise an eyebrow and look back down to your work, trying not to meet his gaze. “My apartment is a mess, Dean, I don’t need anyone coming in there and seeing it.”

“I can wait in the car,” he rolls his chair a little closer.

“I… Do you really think I belong there?” You finally meet his eyes, and notice how confused he is. He frowns and reaches out to touch your shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“A girl from the Valley, in one of those fancy night clubs? They’ll all know I don’t belong.” You can hear a little voice in the back of your head yelling at you to stop. But you know that it would be very difficult to fit in with the girls he normally hangs out with.

“You’ll be with us, first off.” He moves his hand from your shoulder to grab your hand. “Secondly, fuck what anyone else thinks. As far as I’m concerned, you belong there. Thirdly, it’ll be fun.”

His eyes are soft, his raspy voice drops to almost a whisper as he speaks, “are you going to make me beg you to come, sugar?”

Your brain short circuits for a second, not expecting his words to affect you this way, and you swallow hard. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t, your mouth is too dry. You have to lick your lips, and you know that your hand is sweating and your heartbeat picked up. There’s a glint of smugness in his eyes and he knows he’s won.

“Fine.”

With a huge grin, he lets your hand go, pushing his chair away and standing. “Perfect. We’ll be leaving at six, so make sure your work is done, princess.”

You watch him walk away before letting out a long exhale.

Again, the car ride with Dean is pleasant. He is great company, and you find yourself wishing the ride between the office and your apartment is just a little longer. He parks in the same spot as the other night and smiles at you softly.

“I’ll be waiting right here.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, “I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You race up the stairs, trying to pull your key out of your purse at the same time. Your heart is racing as you drop your stuff onto the couch and rush into your bedroom. You need to find something that would make it look like you were part of the crowd, and you know that there’s a lack of that in your closet.

You think of Sydney, Q, and Rosanna, the girls that the BBC hung out with a lot. What would they wear? Designer, no doubt. You push your hangers around until you come across a little black dress. It was comfortable and classic, and probably the closest thing you had to what they would wear.

You pair it with a white blazer jacket and high heels. You add a bit more makeup and rush back to your purse, double checking you had what you needed. You make sure the door is locked before rushing back down the stairs and heading to Dean’s car.

He’s sitting on the hood of it now, watching you with a grin. When you get close enough, he lets out a whistle and you blush. He holds a hand out and twirls you when you take it. “You look hot, princess.”

“Thank you.”

Dean lets go of your hand reluctantly and opens your door for you. When you’re in, he shuts it and moves to the driver’s side. You watch him cross, admiring the way his shirt hangs from his form. He had taken his jacket off while he was waiting for you.

“You excited?” He asks as he turns the car on.

“Actually, yes. It’s been awhile since I’ve been out,” you admit. “I didn’t do it too often in college.”

“Why not?” He glances at you for a brief moment before focusing back on the road. You wish he wasn’t driving, that the two of you were able to just talk. Like a date.

“Oh, um,” you’re a little thrown off from your own thoughts. “It’s a little embarrassing.”

“You can tell me anything, doll.”

With an affectionate eye roll, you decide to open up. It’s just so easy around him. “I didn’t have many friends in college, and even less suitors.”

He frowns, “you didn’t have a lot of dates?”

“No.”

“How is that possible?” He gestures to you. “Look at you, you’re a smoke show.”

You know that you’re blushing, you can feel the heat radiate from your skin. “I, um, th-thank you.”

Dean’s expression changes when he hears you stammer. He’s amused, and proud of himself. Thankfully, he changes the subject and tells you about the club you’re going to. The pattern of his voice calms you after a moment, just being able to listen to him talk. You adjust the hem of the dress, pulling it a little further down your thighs. It hadn’t seemed this short when you had put it on in the apartment.

Finally, he pulls into a parking lot. It’s dark now, and the line is wrapped around a corner of the building. Purple lights illuminate the entrance. The music is loud enough that you can hear the beat while still in the car. As he’s parking, you see Joe, Kyle, and the girls walk in. You’re sure the rest of the boys are already in there.

Dean gets out and waits for you to take his arm and leads you into the club. The bouncer smiles at the two of you and opens the rope without you even having to wait in line. You’re only surprised for a second before you remember who you’re with. This group was practically royalty.

A waitress with a tray of shots greets the two of you with a huge grin. “Dean! Who’s your friend?”

You introduce yourself, and she immediately offers you a shot. Dean takes one, so you do too.

“She’s on my tab,” he tells her, and she nods. Then to you, “cheers, doll.”

The two of you clink your glasses together and shoot the liquor back simultaneously. A fire grows in your throat and you screw your face up at the taste.

Dean chuckles, but gives your glass back to the waitress, then leads you to the bar with a hand on the small of your back. He flags a bartender over and orders a whiskey for himself, then looks to you.

“Vodka cranberry’s fine for now,” you give him the default drink of your college days. The bartender nods and quickly gets the drinks back to you.

As you take the first sip, you realize just how strong it is. Dean nods over your shoulder and you see your group in the corner. Weaving through the crowd, Dean doesn’t let go of your hand until you get there, where he switches to resting his hand on your lower back again. You’re very aware of how close he is to your ass and you take another long drink to distract yourself.

Charlie smiles at the two of you, “glad to see you two made it. This is our new friend, Michelle.”

You introduce yourself, as does Dean. It’s clear Charlie’s aim is just to sleep with her, there’s no guessing that.

She looks you up and down, studying you. You can feel yourself start to shrink in on yourself. A smirk appears on her lips and she gestures to your outfit.

“You know, I just love this. My younger cousin just got this for her birthday! I think she returned it to Sears, though.”

“At least she’s not wearing something that resembles an extra small trash bag,” Dean immediately quips back. “Does that material stick to your skin when you sweat?”

Her face falls as your heart soars. He looks to you and smiles, “really, princess, you look great.”

“Thank you.” Michelle turns away with an eye roll, and you look back to Dean again. His smile is soft and genuine. “Really, that was very nice of you.”

“It’s no problem,” he tells you, “I’d be under a cliff and catch you any day.”

You laugh, a little louder than you mean to, “are you trying to prove you read Catcher in the Rye?”

He grins wider, “is it working?”

You shake your head, not believing how cute this is. Before you can answer, Joe interrupts and talks to Dean about a potential investor being here at the club.

“If you’ll excuse me a second, princess, I’ll be right back.”

“Of course.”

With him gone for a few moments, you finish your drink and decide on a second one. This one was just as strong as the first, but this time they gave you a taller glass when you ordered. You’re halfway through another before Joe and Dean are back. You had started a conversation with Sydney, who seems slightly concerned about your possible involvement with Dean.

“He got my cousin kicked out of camp,” she tells you.

“That was ages ago, wasn’t it?” You frown.

“Technically, yes, but—“

Q interrupts, “Syd, just let her date him. He’s a good guy.”

“Who’s a good guy?” Dean’s rasp interrupts as he touches your back again. Joe has his arm around Sydney.

Rosanna smirks, “we were talking about you, actually.”

You can feel a bit of heat on your cheeks, but you’re not sure if it’s because you’re drunk or because you are embarrassed to be caught talking about him. He just beams at you, the smug look in his eyes again. When your eyes lock, you know he’s thinking the same thing you are.

“Want to go get some fresh air?”

The sound of his voice is nearly hypnotic, swirling around in your brain for a moment before you fully process his question. Unable to form words in the moment, you finally nod your head, and Dean takes hold of your hand, leading you to a quiet patio off of the side entrance.

As soon as the air hits your skin, a tingle runs through you, each drop of alcohol you have consumed making their presence known. Swallowing hard to try and gain your composure, you glance around the patio, noting that there are very few occupants, none of which are looking at you and Dean.

_Dean._

Turning your attention to where Dean stands, your legs quiver, the heels and liquor joining forces against you. You find Dean leaning against the side of the building, hands in his pockets and his million dollar smile gracing his lips. His lips.

“You having fun?” he asks.

You opt to show instead of tell. His lips have been haunting you all night, always close, but never enough, and you have to do something about it. The craving is insatiable, you need to taste them. As soon as you make your move to kiss him, he straightens his back and takes a small side step to avoid you, a frown now spreading across his still beautiful mouth.

“You’re drunk.”

“Possibly,” you murmur, taking a second attempt at kissing him. This time, Dean gently grasps your biceps to stop you; he shakes his head with a worried gaze. “Am I misreading everything?”

“No,” he replies. “God, no. Right now, I want nothing more than to take you home with me tonight, sugar.” You part your lips, prepared to tell him you want the same, but he shakes his head again and continues. “Not like this,” he says, softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink; I’m going to call you a cab.”

“Dean, I’m fine,” you insist. “I promise.” The ghost of a smile that appears on his lips does nothing for the need that gnaws at your insides, but he shakes his head once more, brushing hair off of your forehead to take in your entire face.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says. “And if tomorrow, when you wake up, you’re still fine, then give me a call...but not tonight.”

“Dean,” you protest once more, but he stops you, speaking your name sternly— you are almost certain it is the first time he has said your real name since you met. Suddenly, the gravity of the situation hits you, and all becomes serious. “Fine,” you relent. “Call me a cab.”

Dean leads you out of the club and onto the front walk, quickly hailing a taxi for you. Always the gentleman, he assists you in climbing into the car, and gives you a kiss on top of your head.

“I meant what I said,” he mutters. “Give me a call.” Before you can respond, he is pulling away and shutting the door, watching with his hands on his hips as your taxi drives away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things between you and Dean are starting to get more intense.

_Dean’s fingers leave a trail along your arms that feels like fire scorching your skin; his hands stop at your wrists to grasp them firmly, pinning them above your head with just one of his hands. His face is so close to yours and he has not kissed you in so long you feel you will die without it, but that glint in his eye tells you he sees what you feel and has no intention of giving in so quickly._

_You feel his free hand caressing along your thigh, your skirt already bunched around your waist from spreading your legs to accommodate him kneeling between them. Your heat is only covered by the thin fabric of your panties, and as soon as Dean’s fingertips collide with the material, your back is arching off of the mattress._

_“You’re more eager than I expected,” he whispers, nudging your cheek with his nose as he buries his face against your neck._

_Dean’s contact is light, almost nonexistent. But it has been too long and you have craved him so much that you are hyper-aware of everything. Each brush of your skin, every soft exhale, even the small whimpers that he releases when you push into his touch, your nerve endings are on fire and you feel as though you will burst._

_You can feel yourself dripping in your panties, the teasing causing you to be wetter than you had been in recent memory. With each soft graze of Dean’s lips against your neck, and the murmur of your name, you feel the slickness increasing. You need him now, you have to feel him or you will pass out, you are certain of it._

_“Take me, Dean. Please don’t tease me; I need you.”_

_“My princess needs me?” he whispers, lifting his head to look into your eyes. The pleading look you give him causes a teasing chuckle and a mocking pout from the man, but he finally kisses you. “Anything for you,” he mutters against your lips._

The sharp buzzing of your alarm clock has you sitting up straight with a gasp, hand instinctively smacking the clock to silence it. Drenched in sweat, and panting softly, you look around to find yourself alone in your room, the sun shining through the curtains already.

“Oh, god,” you grumble, averting your eyes from the light.

You clench your thighs together as you feel the distinct arousal that had pooled there from your apparent dream. Closing your eyes and dropping back into your sheets, you try to force yourself back into your dream, but give up quickly as you know it is impossible.

It was so realistic; you could feel him and hear him, even smell him, you were certain of it. The night of frivolous drinking and close calls with Dean left you feeling unfulfilled and your subconscious wanted nothing more than to assist. Unfortunately, it only exacerbated matters — now that you have dreamt of Dean, you know that it will not be easy to look him in the eye.

You remember his request from the night before and momentarily pick up the receiver of the phone at your bedside table. Almost immediately, you set it back in the cradle, knowing that no good will come from having a conversation with him while you are so violently worked up. You decide to take a shower, to wash off the sweat and maybe have a moment to relieve the tension you felt between your thighs.

“No, don’t do that,” you mutter to yourself. “Take a cold shower; wash it off.”

After your shower, you feel lighter. You are far less tense, but there is still an unusual yearning that you feel, thinking fondly of Dean. Sitting on your sofa, you lift your phone from the base and dial Dean’s number; each ring echoes in your ears as the previous excitement you felt is rediscovered.

“Hello?” His voice sends a flutter to your stomach and you have to take a breath before speaking.

“Hey, Dean!”

“Hey, princess,” he says, and you can practically hear the smile in the way his voice sounds. “I was wondering if I was ever gonna hear from you.”

“Yeah, I slept in today,” you say, with a small chuckle.

“Well, after the way you were slamming those drinks last night, I’d say you needed it.” You feel slightly embarrassed when he says this, so you fake a small laugh in response; immediately, Dean can tell. “Don’t be ashamed, sugar,” he says, softly. “You were having fun. You deserved to have a night to let your hair down.”

“I guess,” you respond, unable to rid yourself of the embarrassment that still courses through you.

“I will say that I was only slightly upset,” he begins. “I would have liked to take you back to my place, given you the grand tour. But there’s always time for that.” There is a brief pause, and for a moment, he is speaking to someone else; from the tone of their voice, you can recognize it to be Joe. “C’mon, man,” Dean says, his voice slightly muffled. “Gimme some space; I’m on the phone.”

“I can call back if you’re busy,” you say.

“No, not at all,” Dean says. “Joe’s leaving.” Another moment of Dean speaking to Joe before he is back to you with a sigh. “So,” he starts. “Did you actually have a good time last night?”

“I did,” you say. “Very much.” In the moment, you think of the dream you had of Dean, and decide that there is no harm in telling him; he will probably find it funny. “I did have a dream last night,” you begin. “About you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we were fooling around,” you chuckle. “We were pretty hot and heavy. It surprised me.” When Dean does not laugh in response, you panic, feeling as though you have offended him. “I mean,” you continue, hurriedly. “It was just some heavy petting, not really anything too extreme.”

“Tell me,” Dean says. There is a distinct difference in the sound of his voice as he continues, “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, alright,” you respond. “You were on top of me, and you wouldn’t kiss me, but you were teasing my neck—”

“How?” he interrupts.

“Your lips were, like, grazing over my neck,” you mutter, feeling your body flush as the sensation returns to you. “And your...your tongue.”

“That gets you hot, when your neck gets teased?” His voice has become so gravelly that your stomach tightens and you know you can feel yourself growing wet again.

“I...like that, yeah,” you respond.

“Keep going.”

“And you were touching me so softly,” you continue. “On my thighs...until you finally started teasing me...through my panties.” You can hear Dean’s breath through the phone, heavy but steady, and he lets out a small chuckle.

“You liked getting touched like that?” he asks, quietly, the rasp in his voice unbearable.

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something, sugar?” he inquires, and your mouth is too dry to respond, so you only hum. “Did you touch yourself afterwards?” Now is your turn to breathe heavily and you clench your legs together, that ache returning and increasing tenfold.

“I wanted to,” you reply, your voice unsteady. “But I took a shower instead.” Dean chuckles quietly.

“Good,” he says. “That’s a good girl. I want you to try not to. Hold out as long as you can, okay?” You nod, and then realize that he cannot see you.

“Yes, sir,” you say, to your surprise. Dean does not respond immediately, but clears his throat and releases a sigh.

“I like how that sounds, princess.”

Before you can say anything in response, there is a commotion from his end of the phone and he covers the mouthpiece as he speaks to the other person. Once again you recognize Joe’s voice, and Dean is back on the phone with you, letting out an irritated sigh.

“Listen, I’ve got some things I need to take care of with Joe,” he grumbles. “I would love to finish this conversation, though. So, I’ll call you back as soon as I can, okay, doll?”

“Alright, that’s fine.”

“You be a good girl while I’m gone. Talk to you later.”

The rest of your day drags by as you spend most of your time checking your watch; you had expected to hear from Dean by now. You know that you need to distract yourself. You find menial chores around your apartment to occupy your time, until you tire yourself out and realize that it is nearly nine o’clock.

With a sigh, you drag yourself to bed, trying to not allow yourself to overthink not having received a call from Dean. As you settle into bed, you cannot help but recall the conversation you two had on the phone, the sound of Dean’s breathing echoing through your head and driving you wild. It takes all of your willpower not to touch yourself at the thought of him — his lips, his jaw, his neck, his forearms, his fingers.

You have drawn conclusions about the rest of him; his chest, hips, and thighs appear to be breathtaking in their own right, even hidden under the suits he always wears. But you long to see them, to feel them.

Before you know it, you fall asleep to thoughts of Dean, though much to your dismay, your dreams are of other things. Waking on Sunday morning, you feel slightly hollow; without the promised phone call and the dreams of Dean, your desires were getting the better of you.

You had made plans to spend the day with your mother, several days prior to your outing with your coworkers. Disappointed in yourself, you mope around your apartment to get dressed, but then it dawns on you — the sooner you spend time with her, the sooner you can come home.

The entire afternoon is spent doing a bit of shopping, some lunch, and lots of discussions regarding your new job. You elected to keep your feelings towards Dean to yourself, as your mother may not approve of what he makes you feel. As soon as you drop her at home again, you find yourself racing to get back to your apartment. When you finally enter the front door of your home, you see the red light flashing on your answering machine.

“Dammit,” you hiss, hurrying towards it to press play and are greeted with the sound of Dean’s voice on the cassette.

“Hey, princess. I guess I missed you...hopefully you aren’t avoiding me. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back yesterday...things got a little out of hand with some business issues, but it’s settled now. I hoped we could finish off that conversation from yesterday...and I’d rather not share my current thoughts with your answering machine. So, if you wanna call me back, I’m in for the rest of the night, got some paperwork to catch up on. See you later, sugar.”

As soon as the message ends, you are sitting down on the sofa and picking up the phone, dialing his number once again. You twirl the phone cord around your finger as the line rings, and finally answers.

“Hello?”

“Sorry I missed your call; I was out with my mom.”

“Don’t apologize, doll,” he says, a grin apparent in his voice. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was fun, yeah,” you say. “We just did some typical mother-daughter stuff and then called it a day.”

“Have anymore dreams about your favorite tennis player?”

“Billie Jean King?” you joke. “No, but I wish she would have won her last match, you know? Could have gone out on top.”

“Smartass,” Dean laughs.

“I tried to will myself to dream about you last night,” you admit. “But, damn, if I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.” As soon as you say it, you regret it, feeling your face flush at how you sound. “Pretty desperate, huh?” you quip.

“No, absolutely not,” he says, letting out a low breath. “I thought about you today, too.” He clears his throat and his mouth suddenly sounds closer to the mouthpiece. “I want you to do me a favor,” he whispers. “Can you...not wear any panties tomorrow?” You pull in a sharp breath, stuttering in your throat. “Your skirts are always long enough that you won’t flash anyone,” he says. “But knowing that you aren’t wearing them...it’ll drive me crazy all day.”

“O-Okay,” you whisper. “I can do that.”

“Good girl.”

To your surprise, the conversation changes quickly to talk of his progress on your book, and you talk for what feels like hours. When you glance to your window and notice that it was nightfall, you know you must be getting to sleep.

“Wow, it’s late,” you say, with a chuckle. “I’ve got to get an early start tomorrow, so I should probably turn in.”

“Of course,” he says. “I’m sorry that I kept you so long.”

“No, it was great talking to you.”

“Good,” he says. “Get some rest, sugar. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You step out of the shower the next morning and head back to your closet. Dean’s voice echoes in your head as you open your undergarment drawer. Your fingertips dance along a few of your nicer pairs, but you know you would have to keep your promise. You move onto your bras instead.

Already, you can feel the slickness build a little between your legs, and you have to take a deep breath to calm yourself. No one would see you, it was only for Dean. Another small jolt of arousal travels down your center.

You continue to get ready, trying not to think about how different it feels to have your skirt against your completely bare ass. You take the bus down to the office as usual, but as soon as you see the doorman, you blush a little bit and aren’t able to make eye contact with him.

Sadly, you hadn’t seen Dean’s car in the lot yet, so you get to work. There was a small stack of papers you need to copy, and you’re at the machine when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

“Morning, sugar,” the voice is in your ear, and you can feel the warmth of Dean’s breath on your neck. You melt into his touch a little. He peers at what you’re doing and steps away from you. Already, you’re missing his touch. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” you look at him for the first time since he put you in the cab. His lips are pulled up into a smile and you catch another glimpse of the way he looks you up and down. “Sadly, no dreams last night.”

He shrugs a shoulder, “well, not every night can be great.”

You can feel your desire pull you towards him, but you make yourself stay put, grabbing the next sheet of paper to copy. 

“I was a little worried when you weren’t at your desk when I came in. That sweet little smile wasn’t there to greet me.”

“Sorry, sir,” you put on a little extra sweetness as you speak. “I thought I’d get a head start on my work.”

He steps close again and reaches over you, holding your arm, to grab a copy of one of the papers printing now. “Keep up the good work, doll. I’ll see you later.”

Every nerve ending in your body was screaming at you to just jump him, to beg him to bring you home and finally touch you, kiss you, but you stay put, watching him walk away. You finally let out a shaky sigh, trying to shake the feeling pooling between your thighs.

It turns out to be a long day. You hand deliver some of the paperwork to Dean during a meeting, and he keeps his hand on yours for just a moment. As you make coffee for Joe’s client, he walks by and touches your back. He walks by your desk and winks. When you’re showing Kyle a new spreadsheet, you see him across the room, licking his lips with that tongue. When you make eye contact with him, he grins and bites his lower lip.

You’re in the supply closet, getting more paper clips for your desk when the door shuts, and his hands are suddenly on your hips. He turns you around and pushes you against the shelves, knocking over a few of the cleaning supplies.

“Fuck,” you moan as he pins you there. “Dean… I…”

“Shh, princess, we’ve got to be quiet, don’t we?”

“We’re at work, Dean, we, we can’t.”

He pouts slightly, but loosens his grip on you just a little. “Did you listen to me?”

“What?”

The most tantalizing smirk grows on his mouth. “Did you wear panties today, sweetheart?”

“N-no sir, I didn’t.”

“I guess you could be lying to please me,” he looks you up and down with a hunger in his eyes, “but maybe I’ll find out for sure later.”

“Drive me home tonight?” Your voice is quiet, barely over a whisper.

He runs the back of his fingers against your neck, so softly. “Sure, princess. I’ll see you then.” He walks out of the room with a wink, leaving you a little breathless and shaky.

It’s 5:30 by the time he’s ready to go. It’s eerily silent between the two of you at the beginning, but as he turns onto the highway, he begins to talk about a client he met with earlier in the day.

The whiplash of how he’s acting now versus earlier makes you wonder for a second if you were dreaming the whole thing. His friendly chatter eases you though, the familiar pattern and tone of his voice makes you forget about the feeling you had earlier.

As he pulls into your lot, your heart sinks a little. This is normally where you say goodbye. But you can’t. You don’t want to. He parks and looks over at you, his eyes traveling from yours down to your lips.

“Dean…”

He wastes no more time as he pulls you closer, his fingers in your hair and his lips pushing against yours so hard, you’re sure they’ll bruise. You push away to undo your seatbelt, and he does the same. You get as close to him as you can without being on top of him. You pull his jacket lapels and whine into his mouth. One of his hands stays tangled in your hair but the other hand is on your knee.

Dean’s lips are softer than you ever could have imagined. And he tastes...just so good. It’s intoxicating. His hand scoots further up your thigh, his fingers dancing along the inner side. He nips at your bottom lip with a little bit of teeth before sliding his tongue back into your mouth. His hand moves up again, his fingers almost touching your slick heat. You start to spread your legs a little more, angling your hips a little closer to his hand in anticipation. His fingers are so close you can feel the heat radiate off of them.

“HEY! THAT’S MINE!”

The two of you jump apart, terrified of the unknown voice.

You look around, out the windows, and see a few kids chasing each other. One of them has a brightly colored basketball and is running in the front of the small pack.

“I… I should go inside.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, his lips redder than usual.

“Thank you for driving me, Dean, I really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sugar.” He grabs your arm before you leave and kisses you one more time. “Remember to be a good girl.”

“Of, of course.” You can feel a blush spread over your cheeks as you exit the car. You climb the stairs and look over your shoulder to see him pull out of the space. As soon as your apartment door is closed behind you, you lean back on it. The desire to touch yourself was so high, you knew your were wet enough to just go straight into it. But Dean’s words stay present in your mind.

_Remember to be a good girl._

The next day, you find yourself pushed up against those same shelves as the day before. This time, you have your hands in his hair and you’re kissing him like it’s the last thing you’ll do. Dean’s lips are addictive, you can’t taste enough of them. He’s got a hand on your ass, squeezing gently. 

Your skirt is pushed up your thighs to make it almost too short. You had decided to wear panties today, but when you had seen the hunger in Dean’s eyes when he saw you this morning, you took them off in the bathroom. His hands move from your ass, one moves to your thigh. He hitches it up around his hip, the skirt moves a little higher up and he reaches between your thighs.

“God, you’re wet,” he whispers, “all for me, princess?”

You whine out a “yes”, and he finally touches you. Barely, softly, but he still touches you and all of your nerves are on fire. You need more friction. You need his fingers inside you. 

“Dean, pl—“

Suddenly, you hear Charlie and Joe talking and you freeze. Dean moves his hand away and puts the other over your mouth, looking over his shoulder at the door. The talking carries on, though it fades as they walk away. He moves his hand and smiles at you.

“Now where were we, princess?”

You shake your head, “we’re at work, that’s too close a call.”

“You don’t want them to see you hooking up with me,” he doesn’t say it like a question. His face falls for only a second, but he turns his smile back on and kisses your forehead. “I’ll drop you off at home again, alright?”

“I’d like that,” you smile at him.

He smirks and looks at his glistening fingers. He brings them to his lips and darts his pink tongue out to clean it up, letting out a quiet moan. Your mouth is dry as you watch his lips turn up into a smug smile, “delicious. See you later, sugar.”

You adjust your skirt and tame your hair while you wonder how you’ve gotten yourself into this whole thing. Quickly, you head back to your desk and resume your work. The next few hours are torture, you can barely focus on making the schedule for Kyle. He had wanted to take on a few extra meetings, so Joe was having you move some stuff around for him. Your thoughts kept traveling back to Dean’s fingers and his tongue, though and you had to take a couple bathroom breaks to try to gather your thoughts.

When it was finally time to leave, you were a little too eager to get into the car.

“Hey, princess, I’m really sorry,” Dean starts as he approaches you. “I can still drop you at your apartment, but I have to jet right after.”

“Oh,” you try to hide your disappointment. You had been planning on inviting him up, but now… 

“Something last minute came up with Ron Levin. He needs Joe and I to meet him.”

“That’s okay, I understand.” You climb into his passenger seat and he gets onto his side with a frown. 

“I don’t think it’ll take too long, so I could call you when I get home.” He glances over at you before he looks back at the road, “since I am depriving you of your favorite conversation partner.”

You laugh a little, “I’d like that. I really do enjoy when we do get to talk, Dean.”

The smug smile grows, “thanks, doll. I like talking to you, too.”

The two of you are talking, about anything and everything. Your conversation turns into talk about your book.

“I’m nearly finished,” he tells you, “I haven’t read as much as I would like to recently. Been busy. How’s _The Stand_?”

“Great. I finished it last night, actually.”

He raises his eyebrows, surprised at you, “you finished a whole thousand pages already? It’s been like, what, a week?”

You giggle and nod, “yeah, I’m a fast reader, I guess.”

“Shit, guess I won’t be able to catch up.” He turns into your lot. “But I’ll talk to you later, right? You can give me a summary.”

“Yeah,” you tell him, “if you want.”

There’s an awkward moment after he parks where you’re not sure if you should kiss him. You want to. You really want to, but you don’t know if you should. While you’re trying to decide, Dean leans forward, taking your chin in his hand and pulling you close, giving you a soft chaste kiss.

“Talk to you later, princess.”

You nod, your heart at an irregular pace now, “yeah. Thank you for the ride.”

“My pleasure.”


	4. Chapter 4

You stay awake as long as you can, cleaning the apartment and hoping that Dean would call soon. You couldn’t believe how entranced you are by this man. You hadn’t known him for too long, and yet you feel like he’s been a friend longer than any of your others. 

A friend, as well as something else. You’re not quite sure how to describe the feelings. You don’t know if it’s emotional or physical at this point, but you know you want more of whatever company you can get from him. 

It’s ten o’clock by the time you’re fighting to keep your eyes open, so you crawl into bed.  _ He probably won’t call tonight _ , you tell yourself.

  
  


_ “Dean,” you whine. He’s teasing you again, feather light touches and smirks. He bites at your neck, licking over the skin that his teeth just were. This time, his tie was around your wrists, holding you in place on the bed. _

_ “Shh, sugar, don’t you worry.” He sits up on his knees and looks down at you hungrily. “I’ll take care of you.” _

_ His hands start to pull your skirt off, down your legs so slowly, kissing your thighs after the fabric slides down. As he crawls back up your body, you whimper and whine. He pauses right at your hips, kissing each hip bone before ducking back down. _

_ “You going to beg me, princess? Be a good girl for me?” _

_ “Dean, please, I need you, I need your tongue, I need your fingers, I need—“ _

  
  


Your phone is ringing. You flip on the lamp and check the time. It’s after midnight, and for just a moment you’re angry at whoever is interrupting your dream, but then it clicks. It’s probably exactly who you want it to be.

“Hello?” You try to steady your breathing, clenching your thighs together at the thought of telling him your dream.

“Hey, doll,” the familiar rasp answers and you feel yourself break into a huge grin, “am I interrupting anything? You sound a little out of breath.”

“Truthfully?” You wrap the cord around your finger. “You did interrupt something. But I’m okay with it.”

It piques his interest. “Oh? You want to enlighten me?”

“I was just asleep… having another dream about you.”

He lets out a sigh, “tell me everything, sugar.”

“Well, you had me on a bed, on my back again. This time,” your voice gets quieter almost involuntarily, “you had tied my wrists to the headboard with your tie—“

“You like being tied up?”

“S-sometimes,” you admit shyly. “Just my wrists.”

He hums into his side of the receiver, “I’ll keep that in mind. What else?”

“You were teasing my neck again, for a bit,” you adjust in your bed, your hand ghosting above your waistband. “And biting. Then you, fuck, you took my skirt off and were teasing my thighs with kisses and you made me beg.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was gravelly, quiet and straining. “I would love to hear that, princess.”

You bite your lip for a second, gathering some courage for what you were about to say next, “you can.”

There’s a beat of silence and you can almost see his smirk. He doesn’t respond right away, and you can’t stand it, you continue to speak.

“Dean, I’ve been so good, I just… I need you. You’re driving me crazy and I, I need you.” You close your eyes tight. “I wish you were here.”

“Oh, sugar, you have no idea how good that sounds,” he’s practically growling, “I would love to have you under me right now.”

“Please, Dean, just come over, we—“

“I can’t tonight. I have to leave soon to go back to Ron’s. I just had to grab something and I wanted to make good on my promise.”

You let out a groan. You want so badly just to have this ache taken care of, to have Dean touch you and make you moan and whimper, to make you feel good, to just finally  _ fuck _ you.

“But you said you’ve been good?” He asks you, “what do you mean?”

“I, uh, haven’t touched myself since you told me not to.”

“You haven’t?” The surprise is clear in his tone, it’s genuine and, somehow, it sends another jolt through your body. “How bad do you want to?”

“So bad, I need to be touched,” you whine out, “I would rather it be you, b—“

“Tomorrow, you’re coming home with me.” His voice is more demanding this time.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he tells you softly, “I’ve got to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby doll.”

The following day practically drags by, your eyes cutting to your watch after what felt like thirty minutes but in actuality was only five. You have only seen Dean once so far, and it was as Joe was hurrying him along to a meeting with a new investor. Tapping your pen on your desk, you contemplate making up an excuse to interrupt the meeting so you can get a glimpse of Dean, but immediately you shake the idea away, knowing it is not professional.

Suddenly, you hear talking from nearby, and your head lifts to find Joe and Dean exiting the office with the investor with them. All three men are talking, laughing loudly, but Dean does not look at you right away, much to your dismay. As they reach your desk, Dean gives you a quick smirk, before continuing on with the other two men until they are out the door.

_ God, look at the way his pants look on his thighs. _

The phone at your desk rings, and you jump, scooping it up hurriedly to answer it. The call is for Scott, so you place them on hold, dialing the extension for Scott’s office.

“Scott, there’s a Stanley Bell holding on line one for you,” you say. He thanks you, and as you hang up the phone, you lift your gaze to the front of the desk, finding Dean leaning onto it, smirking down at you. “Hey, Dean,” you say, trying to keep your voice smooth.

“Princess,” he nods. “You excited?”

“For…?” you trail off, hiding the teasing grin that threatens your lips.

“Tease,” he chuckles, making his way around behind the desk, crouching down beside you. He helps you roll your chair back from beneath the desk enough where he can see where your hemline falls. He places his hand on your thigh, fingers slowly pushing the skirt up higher.

“Should I have brought something to sleep in?” you ask, feeling an excitement building inside of you. “Because if you don’t have anything for me to wear, I’ll just have to sleep naked. I hope you don’t mind.” Dean gives you a warning glare, squeezing your thigh.

“We’ll figure something out,” he mumbles, glancing around to make sure you were alone. “I’m in and out of meetings all day. Be ready to go at five-thirty.” He dips his head down and presses a quick kiss to your bare thigh, before giving it another small squeeze as he stands. Shooting you a wink, he walks off, straightening out his clothes as he goes. You breathe out, shuddered and fast, hating the idea of waiting another five hours before you can touch Dean.

For the next five hours, you can feel the skin of your thigh burning from the kiss. You needed more. And you realize about halfway through the day that you had filed the investor’s files backwards. You busy yourself by re doing them correctly.

Your watch reads 5:26 when you’re done, so you quickly gather your things, anxious as you watch each man walk by your desk. Finally, there’s Dean. His jaw is set and his sunglasses are already on, so you can’t completely read his expression. You stand to leave, but the phone begins to ring.

You quickly pick it up, “BBC, how may I direct your call?”

“Hey, it’s Syd. Has Joe left yet?”

Suddenly, you’re annoyed. Dean’s got a slight smirk as he waits for you, leaning an arm on the desk. “No,” you tell her, “he’s still here. Want me to transfer you?”

“Please,” she responds. You swear you hear her shaking a spray paint can.

You quickly transfer the call and hang up. Dean clears his throat.

“It was Syd,” you tell him almost like an excuse, then bat your eyelashes and lower your tone, “sorry to keep you waiting, sir.”

“I think I’ll get over it,” he chuckles and you  _ finally  _ leave the office. The instant the two of you are in the car, he’s got his hand on your thigh, pushing the skirt up again and his fingers press against the inner side. “I think Joe and Syd are going out tonight, so we’ll have the place to ourselves for quite awhile.”

“Oh?”

He smirks, “yeah. I can make you moan as much as I want, we won’t have to worry about the stupid closet and keeping it quiet.”

“Dean,” you whine, spreading your legs a little more and adjusting to sit closer to him.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll take care of you.” He’s already pulling up to a house. “Just gotta be patient.”

The house is amazing. Glass doors and windows everywhere, a pool, you can see Syd’s art in a spare room you guess she uses for a studio. The place is fully furnished and beautiful. Modern furniture and new appliances, you note as you walk into the house.

Dean drops his sunglasses and keys down on a small table and grabs you by the wrist to pull you into his chest. He’s smiling down at you, a bit of softness in his eyes. You smile back and lean forward to kiss him, starting softly and slowly at first.

The kisses quickly escalate and you begin to push his jacket off. You need to see what the clothes were hiding from your sight, you need to feel his skin on yours. He lets it drop off his arms, then aids you in unbuttoning his shirt. It almost kills you to see the tight white tank underneath.

He breaks you apart and starts to push you towards a room, “I want you in my bedroom.”

When you walk into the room, you notice your book sitting on his bedside table. A wave of affection crashes over you before you turn back around and begin to undo the buttons on your blouse. He helps you and you get it off in no time. He raises a hand to your breasts and he traces his thumb against the pattern of your bra. 

Again, you pull him close to kiss him, biting at his lower lip playfully. After a few moments, he steps back and peels off the tank top and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His arms and his chest are beautiful. You reach out and touch the planes of his chest, dragging your fingertips across him.

“Take off your skirt,” he tells you, soft but still assertive. As you’re doing that, you can hear him undo his belt, dropping the pants and then stepping out of them. He still has his underwear on, deliciously tight against his ass and his straining cock. He pulls you close, kissing you roughly again before bending his knees to help lift your thighs around his waist. You go to kiss him, but his face is buried in the crook of your neck, dragging his tongue along the skin there.

You let out a moan as his teeth sink into you, “Dean…”

He pulls back for just long enough to answer, “princess?”

“That feels so good. Please don’t stop.” You can feel his lips turn up into a smirk before he goes back to teasing you there for another few moments. He moves you slowly to the bed and lets you drop before climbing back over you, kissing down your chest this time. You arch your back so he can unhook your bra. Once it was discarded, his lips begin to move across the soft flesh there. 

He stops after a moment, looking up at you, then around his room. He leans over to his nightstand and searches around for a second until he pulls out a condom. He drops it next to you and continues his trail down your body. He pulls your legs a little further apart and kisses both your thighs. You see a glint of mischief in his eyes before he licks a slow stripe against your panties.

“Fuck,” you didn’t expect that. Your hands reach down to thread through his hair. He bites at your thigh a little harder than you would have expected, and you yelp. 

“I can listen to that noise all day, sugar,” he bites a little bit higher and you yelp again.

You wriggle your hips a little but he pins you down. He was completely in control. He moves a little bit to pull your panties down and tosses them behind his shoulder. He leans forward to lick another stripe down your folds. 

“God, that feels so good,” you breathe out, “Dean…”

He spreads your pussy and his lips connect with your clit. You let out a long moan and his fingers push into you. Another moment passes before he picks up the pace, sucking a little harder as well. His name falls from your lips like a little prayer, he’s the only thing you can concentrate on.

Suddenly, he stops. Your eyes shoot open and you look down to see his mouth glistening with your juices, a smirk on his lips. 

“Give me the condom.”

You grab it and hand it to him as quick as you can, your mouth dry at the sight of him still between your legs. He pushes himself up and stands to drop his underwear. His cock springs free and you want to sit up and tease him back just as much as he has been you. He tears open the wrapper and rolls the condom on, climbing back onto the bed.

“Spread your legs a little more, sugar.”

You do as you’re told, but you furrow your brow. “Didn’t really peg you for wanting to do missionary, if I’m honest.”

He chuckles, shakes his head, “oh, I like different positions too, but getting to see your tits bounce as I pound into you… getting to feel your fingers dig into my back…” He leans down and places a kiss on your lips, soft but still with some urgency, “getting to do that.”

You pull him down closer and kiss him again, trying to grind your hips against his so you can get some friction. He nips at your lower lip and pulls away so he can watch himself push into you.

_ Finally _ .

You let out a moan, one hand gripping one of his shoulders, digging your nails into him. He groans at the same time and you know this was a long time coming. It felt so good to finally feel him inside you, finally being touched. He’s still for a moment before he begins to move, slow thrusts at first. He’s got his hand on one of your hips, the other cupping your face. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and your fingers dig in more. Your kisses are desperate and sloppy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbles against your lips. “You feel so good, sweetheart.”

“Dean, harder, please,” you whine out. To your surprise, he immediately listens to your request. The hand on your hip moved between your bodies as he rubs at your clit. “God, fuck, Dean…”

“I’ve got you, baby doll,” he whispers between his kisses.

“If you keep— fuck, yes— if you keep this up, I’m going to come soon,” you tell him. 

“Me too,” he admits. He rubs your clit faster, making your head fall back as you moan, feeling the orgasm starting to build. “You going to come for me, sugar? Come all over my cock?”

“Y-yes, Dean, fuck!” Your hips buck up involuntarily as the pleasure courses through you, you drag your nails down his back and you feel as though your whole body is on fire, every nerve a spark. As you start coming down from the high a little, you feel Dean’s pace stutter, then still. 

“Fuck,” he groans before collapsing on top of you pressing a couple open mouthed kisses to your shoulder and your chest. He pulls out of you and gets up to dispose of the condom. He comes straight back to the bed though, laying back down next to you. 

You turn on your side to look at him, “that was fun.”

He lets out a short laugh and turns on his side too, “not very professional though, huh, princess?” You cuddle up beside Dean, letting out a long, contented sigh. Dean’s arms wrap around you, fingers stroking your bare back until you find yourself drifting off to sleep. 

  
  


You wake with a tired groan, opening one eye to peer at the alarm clock that read 2:45am. You are now on your side facing away from Dean, having pulled away from him some time in the night. As you manage to pry your other eye open, you notice a light coming from behind you; carefully glancing over your shoulder, you find Dean wide awake. He is sitting up in bed, intently reading  _ Catcher in the Rye _ . A wide, yet sleepy grin spreads across your lips at the sight, but as you watch him, he looks towards you.

“Hey, sugar,” he mumbles, reaching one hand out to brush his fingers over your back. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up? Do you want me to turn the light off?”

“No, baby,” you say. “Keep reading.” Dean glances back at the book, counting the remaining pages before he looks back to you.

“Well, I’ve got fifteen pages left,” he says. “Want me to read them to you?” The smile on his lips makes your heart skip a beat; you nod your head in response. “Come on over then, princess,” he whispers, holding his arm out to you. “Snuggle up tight.”

You roll onto your opposite side, maneuvering closer to Dean; you drape your arm over his waist and you rest your head on his chest. His arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you snug against him. Once you are both comfortable, Dean dramatically clears his throat focusing his attention on the book once again.

You manage to keep yourself awake long enough for Dean to finish the book, and he closes it with a snap, setting it on the bedside table. You tip your head up so you can look up at his face, and find him smiling warmly at you. His finger traces over your lips, and you playfully bite it to get a small laugh from him.

“We can talk about the book in the morning,” you say. “Right now, I just want you to hold me.”

“That I can do,” he nods. Dean switches off the bedside lamp and moves down into the sheets with you, pulling you back towards him. He leans in and kisses you tenderly, letting out a soft sigh against your lips. “Goodnight, princess,” he whispers.

The alarm goes off at 7:45, and you groan before opening your eyes. Dean is partially still holding you as he wakes, letting out a sigh before sitting up and reaching over to hit the alarm. 

He sits still for a moment, and you’re about to sit up as well, but then he sinks down and pulls you back to him, screwing his eyes shut.

“Dean?”

“Mm?” He doesn’t move.

“Shouldn’t we be getting ready for work?” You can’t hide the amusement in your voice, you begin to stroke his hair from his face.

“No, doll,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“Oh? And why not?”

He looks up at you with a small smirk, “cause I’m the boss and I say you should call out and spend all day in bed with me.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little—“

“I swear to god, princess, if you say unprofessional…”

“A little suspicious?” You can’t help but smile as you catch him off guard.

He shakes his head, “no one’s going to be suspicious, no one even knows you’re here, doll.”

You bite your lip. He has a point. And you wanted nothing more than to fool around with Dean all day. To see what else he was capable of. A jolt of arousal flows through you and you think of the cons. But before you can even think of one full reason, Dean’s lips are on your neck.

“And you’d call out too? Can you do that?”

“Mm,” he pulls away from your skin for just a moment, “nah, I’d have to tell them I was making sales out of office today.”

“Give me the phone.”

“That’s a good girl,” he grins and turns to grab the receiver and dials for you.

You clear your throat a little while you wait for it to connect. Scott’s the one who answers, which surprises you. “Hey Scott.”

“Oh, hey! Are you okay? You sound a little hoarse.”

“No, I’m actually sick,” you tell him, “I can’t come in.”

“Aw, that sucks! Do you think it’s contagious?” He asks you and you can hear him shuffling some papers around.

You fake cough, “I don’t think so. I hope to be back tomorrow.”

“Me too, feel better.”

“Thank you, see you later.”

You hand the receiver back to Dean, he hangs it up and turns back to you to continue kissing at your neck. With a giggle, you push him away a little.

“As much as I want to dive right in, I need the bathroom and to eat,” you tell him and pull his face towards you to kiss him properly.

He pouts at you and lets out a sigh, “can I get another kiss first, doll?”

“How can I resist this face?” You hold his chin in your hand and lean close again. “Alright, I’m getting up.”

He watches you get out of the bed. You scoop up his shirt from the night before and pull it on, buttoning it up.

“You’re asking for trouble, princess.”

You look over your shoulder to see him biting his lip, sprawled out. You smirk and wink at him before ducking out of the room. After you wash your hands, you take some mouthwash and wash your face up a bit. You can hear some clanking in the kitchen, so you head that way.

“What are you ma—“ You stop dead in your tracks as you see that it’s not Dean in the kitchen, but Joe.

He looks at you, confused. “What are… You called in today.”

“I, uh, I did.” You start to feel your heart beat faster.  _ You just lost a good, stable, well-paying job for some sex. You fucked it all up.  _

“Jesus,” he sighs and yells out down the hall, “Dean!”

“Hey, buddy!” Dean practically runs in with a pair of sweatpants hanging on his hips. “What are you doing home?”

“I forgot my checkbook.” He looks between the two of you, “don’t make a habit of calling out. Be at work tomorrow.”

“Of course, man,” he grins with his million dollar smile, seeming genuine.

“I’ll see you later then,” Joe holds up his checkbook and turns to head out the door. As soon as it shuts, you bury your face in your hands.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, princess, it’s fine.”

You shake your head, “I should just go into work, I’m… I can’t believe he saw me.”

“You’re real cute when you’re blushing, ya know.”

The blush grows hotter at the tone of his voice. “No.”

“C’mere,” he tells you, moving your hands from your face, “seriously, it’s okay. Joe’s not going to tell anyone. Plus, between you and me, he and Syd did this same thing last week.”

“They did?”

“Yep,” he lets go of your hands, “it’s okay.”

You can feel yourself calm down, and you smile softly back at Dean, “fine. What’s for breakfast?” A smirk begins to spread across his lips as he takes hold of your hips, walking you backwards; you narrow your eyes at him.

“Well, I know what I want to eat,” he whispers. You feel the back of your legs hit the sofa so you grab his shoulders to steady yourself. Your cheeks flush as you realize what he is referring to, but Dean only grins, slowly unbuttoning the shirt you wear. Dean steals a quick kiss, slipping the shirt off of your arms so you are naked in front of him again.

He gently shoves you backwards onto the sofa, before kneeling in between your legs. His eyes find yours and he studies the anxious way you stare down at him, anticipating what he is going to do next. Dean playfully walks his fingers up your shins to your knees, then between your thighs so he can spread them further apart.

“I only got a taste last night,” he mutters. “I’ve been hungry for more.” He traces his fingers along your folds, his featherlike touches sending a small chill through your body. “And watching you come was so sexy,” he continues, his index finger dragging slowly over your clit. “I want to see what it looks like from between your legs.”

Using his two fingers, he spreads you open so his tongue has full access to you; he pushes it into your hole, swirling around for a moment, before trailing back up to your clit. He begins to gently suck on your bundle of nerves, causing your back to arch from the sofa, legs spreading even wider. Dean hums against you, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. He immediately locks you in place by wrapping his arm around your thigh and uses his forearm to pin your hips down.

“Fuck, Dean,” you gasp, feeling his fingertips circling your entrance, gathering up the juices that have already leaked out. He slowly works one finger inside of you, pumping achingly slow. “Mm, no,” you mumble. “More.” Dean pulls back, pressing his thumb to your clit to pick up the slack.

“What’s that, sugar?” he asks, biting your inner thigh as he continues to work you. You do not bother answering, but instead reach down and urge him to add another finger into you. “Oh, you’re so bad,” he chuckles. “You like how this feels?” You nod your head furiously at the feeling of him working his fingers into you. He chuckles and replaces his mouth on your clit to suck more harshly, going at the same pace as his fingers thrust into you.

You close your eyes, pressing your hips down and grinding against his face to get more contact. Dean moans against you, letting go of your hip so he can grab your thigh and pull it off of his shoulder. When he lifts his gaze to yours again, you find his face wet, and watch as he licks the taste of you from his lips.

“If you keep humping my face like that, I’ll have to tie you to the bed and fuck you until you can’t move,” he says, with a smirk. You moan louder as he punctuates his threat with a more violent thrust of his fingers.

He brings his mouth back to your heat, sucking on your clit and not relenting with the speed of his fingers. Your hands reach for him, one coming into contact with his hair, while the other finds his hand that is pressed to your thigh. He releases your leg and laces his fingers with yours while your other hand takes a handful of his hair. The rough way you tug his hair has him growling against you, and his tonguing and sucking becomes sloppy, desperate to get you to your climax.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. “So close.” His movements are swift, trying to urge you closer and closer until finally you feel your orgasm hitting you hard, making your body quake with pleasure. You moan, stuttered and breathless, grinding against his face as you ride out your high. After a moment, your body goes limp against him, fingers still holding his as the small residual shocks of your climax.

“Beautiful,” Dean breathes, kissing your thigh as he pulls his fingers free. You look down at him, and watch the teasing way he licks the taste of you from his fingers, before he gently slaps your thighs. “I was  _ starving _ ,” he says. “I could even go for a second helping.” He gently blows air against the sensitive skin of your slickness, and you shove him away, shaking your head.

“No, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I need to recover.” Dean lets out a hearty laugh and sits up, leaning in towards you to steal a kiss.

“Go take a shower, princess,” he whispers. “I’ll make breakfast.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is just slightly shorter, sorry about that!

You take a quick shower, then towel off, wrapping it around you and heading back to Dean’s room. You find your bag, you had thought ahead yesterday morning and brought an extra set of clothes just in case, though they were office clothes. You pull on your panties but look around for something more comfortable. 

One of his polos was hanging by the collar on a hook on the back of his door. You smile and pull that on over your head. You head out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, glancing towards the windows to see that it had begun raining while you were in the shower. You spot Dean by the stove, pushing something on to a plate from a skillet.

“Hey,” you say quietly and you reach out to touch his back, “what did you make?”

“Omelets,” he answers before turning and looking at you. “You’re a clothes thief.”

“I thought I’d be in the office today,” you admit. “I didn’t bring any comfy clothes.”

“It’s okay, princess,” he presses a kiss to your head, “you look cute. Though…” He turns fully towards you and pops the collar for you with a grin. “There you go.”

“Thanks, I guess I did forget that,” you giggle.

He pulls you close to kiss you properly, then breaks away after a moment, “here, have some breakfast. We can watch a movie.”

The two of you carry your plates to the couch, in front of a big screen. You’re not really surprised by it. He holds up a VHS and you read the cover.

“ _ The Shining _ ?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you if you get scared, doll.” He smirks and you shake your head.

“If it’s anything like the book, I think I’ll be okay. I know what happens.”

He frowns, “of course you’ve read it.”

“I know you haven’t,” you tease him, “judging by the fact you didn’t know anything about  _ The Stand _ .”

He lets out a huff and puts the tape back on a shelf. He looks for a moment and then grins, pulling out another one.  _ James Bond _ it says on the cover, and you nod. He quickly sets it up and begins to play the tape. Dean looks so excited about it and you can’t help it when you can feel the warm fuzzy feeling begin in your chest. 

The movie is good, and the food is amazing. Dean had pulled you close to tuck you under his arm after you had finished eating. His gaze was glued to the screen, and you were starting to crave his attention again. You adjust yourself closer to him and lay a hand on his lap. He doesn’t react. You begin to move your hand to his crotch, resting it there for a moment, he looks at you.

“What are you up to?”

“Well,” you tell him as you begin to rub at him slowly, “I just think it’s unfair that I haven’t gotten to taste your cock yet.”

His eyes widen at first, but he quickly regains his composure and smirks at you, “oh yeah? Why don’t we make it fair then?”

You grin and start to rub him faster, you can feel that he’s starting to grow hard, and in another couple moments, you take him out of his sweats. You look up at him with a raised eyebrow when you realize he hadn’t been wearing underwear this whole time.

“Now I just feel overdressed.”

He hums, adjusting his position to accommodate you moving around. You lean down to lick a long stripe up his cock, slowly and teasingly. You move your body to have your face in his lap, sticking your ass up as you’re on all fours. Taking only the tip of him in your mouth gets a low groan from his throat. You begin to tease, only sucking slightly and swirling your tongue around it. One of his hands rests on your ass, but the other takes a handful of your hair. You take a little more of him into you and start to bob your head a little. He moves the hair away from your face so he can watch you. The hand on your ass squeezes gently.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos to you as you continue to speed up the pace a little, “keep going, sugar.”

You move one of your hands to support yourself on his thigh, getting a nice feel of the muscle there and humming around him. As you continue to take more of him in, his breathing gets heavier and heavier. You pull almost all the way off, and he instinctively bucks his hips up to meet your mouth again. You let him do that a few more times before you move back down and squeeze on his thigh. When you go low enough for your nose to be touching his base, he practically whines.

“Fuck, look at you…”

Your eyes begin to water, so you move back up a little and continue from there. His muscles tense under you and you know that he’s trying to control himself and not choke you. You try your best to look up at him with innocent eyes, and he groans again, his hips bucking up. You stay still and allow him to fuck your mouth, hearing his moans. The hand on your ass grabs a little tighter and he tugs on your hair.

“I’m gonna… I’m close,” he mumbles, but you stay put, determined to taste him. His hips go erratic and almost too suddenly, you feel a warm liquid hit the back of your throat. You suck on him, helping him through his orgasm until you’re sure it’s done. You move your head off of him and sit back on your heels, swallowing everything in your mouth, then licking your lips. “Did you really…?”

“Delicious, I could even go for a second helping,” you repeat his words from earlier. A grin breaks across his face and pulls you close to kiss you.

“Fuck, you’re good at that. I’m gonna clean up, I’ll be back.”

You giggle and gather the dishes to clean them in the sink in the kitchen, humming to yourself. You can hear steady rain outside. As you’re finishing the pan he had cooked in, you feel two arms snake around you and lips on your neck.

“Are you already wanting more?” You bite your lip, “you’re quite greedy, hm?”

“You were the one quite literally gagging for more,” he reminds you and sinks his teeth into a tender spot. 

“You’re not playing fair,” you shut the water off and turn in his arms, “what did you have in mind next?”

“Mmm, don’t know. But something exciting.” He glances around for a moment until he looks towards the glass door leading to the pool, watching the rain that falls down. “How about…” he trails off, looking back to you. “We go outside?”

“What?” you ask, shooting a quick glance to window in time to see a lightning strike followed by a clap of thunder. You tense up, looking back to Dean and shaking your head. “No, that’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. Dean chuckles, and wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. “Dean, wait,” you try.

“We’re gonna have some fun,” Dean laughs, walking you towards the door. Your hands desperately claw at his shoulders, trying to wiggle from his grip as you feel yourself begin to panic.

“Please, no,” you plead, your voice desperate. “Dean!” He stops in his tracks and gently sets you back onto your feet, but keeps his hands on your hips. You let out a few quick pants, looking into his eyes to see how concerned he is.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asks, softly. This time when the thunder crashes, you flinch harder with a gasp, closing your eyes. “Woah, it’s okay,” Dean says, pulling you closer so his arm wraps around your waist. “I’m sorry.” He leads you away from the windows and sits down on the sofa, pulling you into his arms. “I didn’t know you were scared, sugar,” he whispers. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, setting your head on his shoulder. “Sometimes, I just get a little nervous, that’s all.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs his hand over your shoulder. “But, ya’know,” you begin, tipping your head up to look into Dean’s eyes. “You can maybe...distract me.” A smirk spreads across his lips as he guides you into his lap, straddling his thighs.

“Oh, I can definitely do that,” he whispers, pulling you closer to kiss you softly.

The two of you make out on the sofa for a while, until Dean’s breaths become heavier and you know he is getting worked up once again. He carries you to the bedroom where you spend the next few hours getting lost in one another.

After some time, you realize that it is getting late and you should be preparing to go to bed to get up early for work. It takes some convincing, but Dean relents and gives you a ride back to your apartment. He only struggles briefly when you begin to exit the car, and he’s pulling you back in for another kiss.

“Dean, I’ve gotta go,” you giggle against his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Mmm, I know,” he mutters, still not letting you go as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Just trying to get it out of my system.”

After one last kiss on your lips, you gently shove him away from you and exit the vehicle, dragging your bag out behind you. He watches you until you are in your apartment, and only drives off when you close the front door. As soon as your bag is on the ground, you jump onto the sofa, giggling to yourself as you replay the last twenty-four hours in your head.

  
  
  
  


The next morning, you’re sitting at your desk, unable to wipe the smile from your face as you catch up on a few messages from the day before. 

“Hey!” Kyle greets as he walks in, “you feeling better?”

“Loads, thanks.” You hand him a note, “someone called last night for you at 9:30. He sounded a little freaked.”

He frowns, taking the paper, “shit. Alright, thanks!”

He rushes out and you pick the phone up again to check the next message. You’re surprised when you hear Dean’s familiar voice.

“Hey sugar, it’s currently 11:30 and I just got home from dropping you off. It was fun today, huh? I, uh, honestly don’t know why I’m calling your desk. This is probably crazy. I’ll see you in the morning.” There’s a beat, and then the click, and then the staticky noise. You replay it again. And again. There’s nothing really special about the message, but you can’t help but just smile to yourself and you reluctantly go to the next message. It’s the last one, and you note the message for Joe. 

You busy yourself with the schedules, and a few minutes later, a familiar set of arms leans onto your desk. Your smile brightens as you look up at Dean.

“Hey,” you breathe, “how was your night?”

“Lonely,” he pouts for a moment before giving his signature smile, “I had fun yesterday.”

“Me too,” you agree, “thanks for the message on the machine. It was cute.”

He laughs and your heart soars, it’s a noise you thoroughly enjoy. He shrugs a shoulder, “it felt like I had to. But I wasn’t sure if you’d be sleeping or not.”

“Yeah, I probably was.”

“Anyway, princess, any messages for me?”

You look down at your pile, “actually, yeah. Here’s one. And one from me; I hope we can have a swim sometime when it’s not raining.”

“Quite literally a rain check,” he smirks. “I’ll see you later, yeah? I can give you a ride, if you’d like.”

“Maybe we can grab dinner?”

He smiles and nods, “of course, princess.” He goes to leave but then turns back around, reaching into his bag, “oh! Here’s your book back. I really enjoyed it.”

“I’m glad,” you smile and take the book from his outstretched hand. 

“See you later, sugar.”

A couple hours later, you realize how slow it is, the investors all seemed to have left their own offices early for an extended weekend. Remembering that you had started to reread  _ Catcher _ before you had lent it to Dean, you open up the cover to begin again. There was a folded paper tucked into the title page and you frown, opening it up.

_ Really like the way it’s told and gets straight into his head _

You smile at Dean’s handwriting and trace over it with your finger. He had a few other notes and a couple questions written out. In the corner, you see a very sloppy drawing of a cartoon Holden. Your heart swells as you fold it back up and tuck it into the page again, putting it out of your mind so you can read. You’d ask him about it later.

“Hey,” a familiar voice greets you. You look up to Joe and smile tentatively. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Your heart races and your mouth goes dry, you nod. He beckons you to follow him into his office. You can feel the sweat build up on your palms and you discreetly wipe them on your skirt. When you walk in though, Dean’s there too and you feel yourself relax just slightly. 

“Take a seat,” Joe tells you, gesturing to the chair next to Dean. He takes his own seat behind his desk. “So, yesterday…”

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt, “it was completely unprofessional and—“

“Relax, you’re not in trouble.”

“We’re not?” Dean speaks up. “Cause I seem to remember you telling me you could kill me.”

“Because I was alone at the meeting. But, no, we don’t have rules against any type of physical relationships. I just, uh, was advised that I should look into some HR rules.” Joe hands you each a piece of paper. “For now, this is just a quick disclaimer that there are...things happening between you.”

“We’re not, like,  _ together _ together,” you tell him.

He holds up a hand, “I don’t need specifics. All I need is your signature stating that there has been relations or currently are in a relationship… This is so awkward, please just sign it so neither of you can like sue or something.”

Dean smirks and picks up a pen from the desk, signing along the line and handing it back to Joe. “Anything else, bud?”

“No, that’s it.”

“I’ll get back to work, then.” Dean sends you a wink before he exits, and you take the pen to sign your own.

“I’m sorry again,” you tell him. “I, uh, didn’t think you would be around.”

“It’s okay. Really. Just… make sure you’re comfortable and you don’t feel pressured.”

“No, it’s consensual.”

Joe blushes, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him flustered. “Good. Uh, you’re free to go back to your desk, then.”

You nod and walk out of the room, trying to calm your breathing down. A hand grabs your shoulder, and you almost scream. Sydney, Q, and Rosanna are there with amused expressions painted on their faces. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Rosanna tells you, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I’m fine. What are you guys doing here?”

“Visiting our boys. Although, they’re all in meetings now.”

Sydney grins and nods towards the office you just exited. “Not my boy.” She leaves the three of you in the hall.

“You seem different,” Q looks you up and down. “Are you seeing someone?”

Your blush gives it away, Rosanna grins and nudges you. You look around and gesture towards an empty room. “You guys have to keep it quiet. I may have…”

“You have a sugar daddy?”

Your face heats up even more, and you’re too flustered, “n-no, I, uh, well…”

“You’re finally fucking Dean, right?” Q takes out a cigarette, lighting it up. She offers it to you and Rosanna before taking a long puff, “I mean, I was surprised he came  _ back _ into the club that night after the two of you walked out.”

“Don’t tell Syd. Or the other guys, no one is supposed to know yet.”

Rosanna nods and immediately starts asking you questions, most of them, you’re able to dodge around. The two of them seem to be happy for you, but definitely nosy. After a few minutes, you can hear the phone ring and you rush back to the front desk, thankful for the excuse to run out. 


	6. Chapter 6

As you work the next few hours, you’re unable to shake one of the questions from your mind, “you have a sugar daddy?”. Sure, Dean drives you and had paid for your meal and given you a book, but you hadn’t ever been in a position like this where you may actually have a sugar daddy.

You’re finally able to put the thought out of your mind when you realize it’s almost time to go for dinner. Dean’s at your desk a little early, smiling wide.

“Hey, princess,” he greets, “wanna take off a few early? I made some reservations at Spago’s, we might be able to grab a drink before dinner if we leave now.”

“Sure,” you nod, gathering your things. “How...how did you feel about our, uh, meeting with Joe?”

“What do you mean?” A wide grin spreads across his face.

You blush as the two of you head to the door, “well, I’m slightly embarrassed that we got caught.”

“You ashamed of me, doll?”

You cut him a glare, “that’s not what I meant.”

He opens your door for you and lets you into his car, walking around the hood and joining you inside, he leans close, pushing the hair from your face before kissing your cheek. “I know. I’m joking with you.”

“I’m just a little on edge,” you admit, “I just don’t like people in my personal business. Actually, let’s talk about this later. I wanna hear about your day.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Dean shrugs a shoulder and begins to drive as he speaks. You feel so much more at ease now, completely forgetting about Joe and the girls. He begins to tell you about the potential investor he had met with earlier and how that he was still drunk from the night before. 

“He spilled his coffee all over his papers. And, swear to god, he just looked Charlie in the eyes and said ‘why did you do that to me?’, he actually believed Charlie was the one who spilled it. We started to apologize, but he just got up and left,” he shakes his head. “He was telling us he was going to invest 20K. Coulda used that.”

You frown, reaching out to touch his shoulder, “I’m sorry. That must be terrible. Did you make any other sales today?”

“No, he was the only one. The other meetings were existing investors.”

You sigh, “it’s okay. You’re so charming, you’ll make it up.”

He laughs, and again you feel your heart soar. “Thanks, princess.” As he pulls into the parking lot of Spago’s, he looks at you again, “and thank you for listening.”

“Of course,” you tell him, smiling back at him. You take a moment before getting out of the car, sliding your book into your bag. He gets out and walks around to take your arm. 

“You look amazing,” he whispers to you. You laugh, shaking your head. “I know it’s just your work clothes, but I’m serious.”

“Dean,” you sigh out, “you’re too kind.”

“Depends who you ask.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, shaking his head, “you ever hear Sydney call me ‘Mean Dean’?”

“Yes,” you tell him truthfully, but take his despise into note as he says the nickname.

“In third grade, at camp, I was playing foosball in the game room. All the sudden, Sydney’s cousin Jake runs in with a goddamned Roman candle and sets the whole room on fire. I got out fine, but he had already run back to the cabins and told everyone it was me. I stayed behind and told the counselor what happened.” He shakes his head and pauses the story as he tells the hostess his name. The table is ready early, so she walks you to your table and hands you your menus. When she walks away, Dean begins again, “I told him what happened and when we got back to the cabin, Jake was sent home. Everyone called me a liar and then they made that nickname.”

“That’s the best they could come up with?” You reach across the table and squeeze his hand, “kids are terrible. I would have done the same thing, you know.”

He smirks, “thanks, doll. It’s not me. I mean that nickname isn’t me.”

“I know.” You let go of his hand as the waiter approaches with waters.

Dean orders a bottle of wine for the two of you as the remainder of dinner practically flies by. Before you realize it, Dean is pulling into the lot of your apartment and you are hit with the usual wave of sadness that comes with parting ways with him. This time, however, you decide to try something new.

“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your voice hopeful. Dean pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to hide the smirk that was spreading.

“I’d love to,” he smiles.

When you enter your apartment, with Dean behind you, the embarrassment begins to set in; your apartment is significantly different than the lavish house that he lives in. As you turn to face him, however, he removes his jacket and hangs it on your coat rack, then gives you a wide grin.

“You’ve got that look in your eyes,” he says, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

“What look?” you inquire, watching as he brushes past you to take a seat on the sofa.

“The one you give me when you’re struggling to keep your hands to yourself.”

“That’s almost always.”

“True,” he laughs. “But this is the one that  _ really _ lets me know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Then what am I thinking, Carnac the Magnificent?”

“Come over here and I’ll tell you.”

With a small chuckle, you move to him, prepared to take the seat beside him but he shakes his head and motions for you to sit on his lap. You straddle his thighs, sitting down carefully with your hands on his shoulders. Dean’s fingers grasp your hips, dragging you closer to him as he looks up into your eyes.

“So?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “What am I thinking?”

“You’re thinking about laying in your bed in your panties and one of my polos,” he begins, peering thoughtfully into your eyes. “And about how I’d pull your panties off with my teeth...and I’d make sure to leave a few bites along the way.” You swallow hard, picturing what Dean tells you. “Or maybe I’d  _ rip  _ your panties off of you,” he says. “You’d probably like that better.” Before you can respond, Dean continues. “You’re thinking about how it feels when I bury my face between your thighs,” he says. “Sucking on your clit while I finger fuck you.”

“Jesus, Dean,” you breathe, feeling the slickness forming in your panties.

“If I think really hard,” he mumbles, closing his eyes for a moment. “I can practically taste your pussy right now. So fuckin’ tasty, and pretty.” He pulls you down harder against him so you can feel his erection -- you take the hint and begin to grind against him, slowly and carefully. “I’ll bet you’re thinking about how it feels when I slide into that slick cunt,” he continues, his voice deeper as he looks into your eyes. “It’s so tight, and,  _ fuck _ , it feels incredible. I’d have to fuck you slow so you could feel every inch of me inside of you.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, grinding harder against him, his hands guiding you along.

“So slow, and so goddamn  _ hard _ ,” he whispers, his voice becoming breathier. “Until you’re whining for me to fuck you faster so you can come.” You nod your head, hips rolling faster to get more friction against him. He wraps his arms around your frame, pulling you flush against him with your foreheads pressed together. “I want to tie you to the fuckin’ bed,” he rasps. “And I want to tease you until you’re begging for me to give you my cock. You sound so pretty when you moan for me, do you know that?”

“Daddy,” you whimper. “Please.”

“Ohh,  _ fuck _ ,” Dean gasps, urging you to stop for a moment while he looks into your eyes. You are certain your pupils are blown and glazed over with lust, because immediately, Dean is fumbling between your bodies, unzipping his slacks. “You want this cock?” he asks, as he pulls his erection free from his clothing. “Humping me and calling me fuckin’  _ daddy _ in that slutty little voice...God, you  _ need it _ , don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, nodding furiously. “Give it to me, daddy.” A wide grin spreads across his lips as you reach down, pulling your panties to the side to allow him to push inside of you.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he breathes.

“You’re so big, daddy. You stretch me out when you fuck me...I love it.”

Dean growls, smirking evilly at you as he holds your hips tighter, helping you ride him hard and fast. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, keeping his body tight against yours as you move.

“Daddy’s whore, love how you make me feel,” he pants.

Your movements are sloppy, and you slam down so hard each time, he fills you up with every move. Completely ignoring the fact that you have neighbors, you moan louder, but immediately bury your face against Dean’s neck, biting down to muffle the noises. Dean moans himself, grabbing your backside firmly and helping you move even faster.

After several moments, Dean moves his hands to your hips once again, holding them still. You are prepared to ask him what is wrong, but he begins to thrust quickly into you, hitting you deeper than before. You yelp out, surprised by the feeling of how swiftly Dean can move. This time, you bite his shoulder, harder than before -- the action only eggs him on further. Your wiggle your hips around, trying to get every centimeter of him inside of you that you can as you feel your orgasm reaching you.

“Gonna come, sugar,” he pants, trying to move you off of him.

You shake your head and whine, “it’s fine, keep going.”

“In-inside you?”

“Please, daddy?”

He groans and continues to move fast and hard, filling you up. Your moans turn into whines as your climax hits and you continue moving down onto Dean to help him along with his own orgasm. At the feeling of your walls clenching around him, Dean lets out a stuttered moan, body going stiff and legs trembling as he finishes, buried deep inside of you.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasps, as you relax on top of him, trying to catch your breath. He chuckles breathlessly, running a hand over your hair to grasp the back of your head. He tips your head up so he can look into your eyes. “My legs are trembling,” he laughs.

“That was incredible,” you mumble. “I can’t believe how good that felt.”

“You broke me when you called me ‘daddy’.”

“I’m sorry, it just came out.”

“Oh, believe me, I  _ love it _ ,” he says. “We’ll definitely be using that a lot more.” You chuckle, lifting off of him with a soft grunt, and standing up. “How big is your shower?” he asks, looking down at his lap then back up to your face, a smirk spreading across his lips.

As you stand in front of the shower, letting the water run for a moment to heat up, Dean comes up behind you, kissing your neck gently. One hand reaches to bunch your skirt while the other slips between your thighs, fingers rubbing through your folds. When he is satisfied, he retracts his hand and brings it up to your lips -- you take the hint and slowly lick his fingers, tasting the mix of the two of you.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles, kissing your neck once again. With a laugh, you pull away from him and begin to undress yourself while he removes his own clothes. You step into the shower first, making sure the water washes over you entirely before Dean steps in. “Mmm, feels good,” he mumbles as the water hits him.

At first, neither of you speak, only quietly help one another bathe. Dean’s hands are gentle as he helps scrub all over your body, stopping every so often to kiss your lips. When you help him, you return the favor, carefully cleaning him and giving kisses.

“You’re adorable,” he chuckles against your lips.

“Oh, I thought I was…” you trail off, feigning thought for a moment. “Daddy’s whore, was it?” Dean inhales deeply, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Well, I couldn’t call you my girl,” he says. “Ya’know, since we aren’t  _ ‘together _ together’.” You pause, looking up into his eyes; immediately, his eyes go wide. “Oh, my God,” he says. “I didn’t mean that to sound shitty. I’m so sorry. I was just making a joke.”

“Dean, it’s okay,” you say. “I only said that to Joe because I didn’t want to label something we haven’t discussed yet.” Dean sighs thoughtfully, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him.

“Well, sugar,” he begins. “Will you be my girlfriend?” You giggle at his question, playfully smacking his chest; you trace your finger around the bite mark you left on his shoulder. “I’m serious,” he whispers. “You’re mine, right?”

“Of course,” you reply, faster than you should have. Dean chuckles, kissing you softly. “Will you spend the night with me? Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“I’ve got lunch plans with Kyle and an investor, but tonight, I’m all yours.”

You hum, “I like the sound of that.”

“I know we just got clean, but…” His voice trails off suggestively.

“Mmm,” you run your hand down his bicep, “you know how you were telling me what I was thinking earlier?”

“Yes.”

You smile, batting your lashes up at him, “you were so close.”

“Oh? Do tell, princess.”

“I want to feel you behind me, fucking me into the mattress,” you tell him, “I want you to fuck me against a wall, grabbing my throat or pinning my wrists. I want you to bend me over a counter or table. I want you to fuck me so good that I can’t walk in the morning, daddy.”

He takes a deep inhale and reaches over you to shut the water off, “get dried off.”

You smirk and do as you’re told. Dean is right behind you and grabs his own towel. He dries off quickly and grabs your hips, pulling you so your ass is flush against his erection. He faces you toward the mirror and nips at your earlobe.

“See that mark you gave me, sugar?” He’s got that deep growl again and all you can do is nod. “That shit isn’t going to fly this time, alright? I mark  _ you  _ up, got it?”

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help but stare at the mark and you know that it won’t be the last you give him. But for now, you’re willing to play along.

One of his hands maneuvers into between your legs, almost immediately finding your clit. He begins to rub it, but he doesn’t give you enough pressure, it just sets your nerves on fire, and you want more. You watch his hand in the mirror, transfixed on the motion, but you can see his eyes in the peripherals. There’s a dark hunger in them and you can’t help but moan.

“That’s such a pretty sound,” he whispers, “such a little slut, already moaning at just this? Daddy’s going to take care of you, baby, lean on the counter, make sure you can see that pretty face of yours in the mirror.”

You don’t think you’ve ever moved this quick in your life. You prop yourself up on your forearms and look straight at your reflection. You look needy, desperate. You make eye contact with Dean in the mirror and give him the best pleading eyes you can.

He hums and runs his hands over your back, down to your ass, grabbing there. He uses his foot to tap between your ankles, making you spread apart more. “Good girl.”

You feel yourself shudder a little at the words, a warm sensation spreading through your body. He brings down his hand quickly with a smack, waiting for your reaction. 

“Do that again,” you whisper, surprising yourself. He does what you ask and you let out a moan.

“God,” he leans forward, still keeping his eyes on yours in the mirror, and gets close to your ear, “such a perfect slut for daddy, huh? You like being spanked?”

“First time,” you admit and he groans again, louder this time.

Almost with no warning, he has his fingers pumping into your heat. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut. He tugs on your hair slightly, “eyes open, I want you to see.”

You look into the mirror and watch him as he watches his fingers slide in and out of your slick folds. He smirks as you clench around him and pulls his fingers out, putting them in front of your face again and urging you to lick them clean. 

While you’re preoccupied with that, he slips into you, quick and hard, making you choke on his fingers. “There you go, you like that, don’t you whore?”

“Mmm,” you hum around his fingers, sucking them a little harder. He takes them out and wraps your hair around one of his hands, forcing your face to look straight ahead into the mirror. You look up to see his face, lip between his teeth as he watches you intently. His free hand strokes down your back to your hip, grabbing on there and slowing his thrusts little by little.

“Daddy, please, I need you to go faster,” you pant out. He just smirks in return and pulls you to be standing straight up. 

“I thought you wanted me to be slow and hard, hm? Filling up your tight cunt, making damn sure you can’t fucking walk tomorrow.” He bites at your jaw and then pulls himself out of you, pointing at the door. “I want you on the bed, wait for me, but don’t touch yourself. Can you do that for daddy, sugar?”

You nod, whimpering at the way he sounds when he calls himself daddy. You leave the bathroom and make your way to the bedroom, following his directions and laying down on your back and spreading your legs. The desire to misbehave and touch yourself is very high, you want to dip your fingers into your entrance and to tease your clit until Dean gets in the room, but you also want  _ him _ to do all those things.

He walks in a moment later and leans against the door frame, smirking at you. “You really are a perfect little slut for me, hm?” He crosses the room, and you feel the bed dip with his weight. Part of you is expecting his face to drop down between your thighs and tease you with his tongue. But he doesn’t. He goes straight to wrapping your legs around his waist and sliding back into you.

The thrusts are deeper, but still at a slow pace. You whine and beg him again to go faster. Still, he doesn’t listen, he stills for a moment and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper. One of your hands reaches for him, pulling his face down to yours to kiss him, the other digs into his shoulder, surely leaving marks.

“God, you’re so big,” you’re able to pant out, “feels so good.”

“I know sugar, I know, you feel so tight, it’s incredible,” he growls, now finally picking up the pace a little. The whole bed moves with his thrusts, and you’re sure you’ll have a complaint from the neighbors, but in that moment you cannot find one single ounce of care in you. Everything is Dean right now, and you can’t believe how good he feels in you. You grip his shoulder and thread your fingers in his hair, tugging just slightly.

“I’m getting close,” you admit, and he drops one of his hands between you, rubbing at your clit to help you build up, “d-daddy, I want you to come on me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, “where do you want it, princess?”

“Tits,” you manage through a whimper and he growls in response, rubbing your clit harder. You practically scream his name as you can feel this orgasm crash through you, wave after wave. He pulls out as soon as you’re done and starts to stroke himself over you, aiming straight for your chest and finally finishing, covering you with his release.

He pants over you for a moment before sitting back on his heels. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ hot.” He tilts his head and looks at you for another moment before nodding as if he saved the mental picture. He stands and goes to the bathroom for a moment and comes back with a wet washcloth to help you clean up.

“Thank you,” you grin as he places a kiss on your forehead. “I should take another shower, but, ya know, solo this time. So I don’t get sidetracked.”

“I know, sugar, I’m so distracting, it’s a curse, really.”

You roll your eyes and stand, your legs shaking and almost making you fall over. You catch yourself on the nightstand. You don’t need to look at Dean to know he’s got that smug smirk on his face.

“My job here is done.”

“It most certainly is not,” you tell him from over your shoulder. “You’re just on break for now.”

He fully laughs at that as you manage to get yourself into the bathroom. That night, you curl up against Dean and sleep soundly and dreamlessly. The two of you sleep in a little bit, but eventually he has to leave so he can get ready for his meeting with Kyle. 

You walk him to the door so you can get as many kisses and touches in that you can before he leaves, as if you’ll never see him again. He holds your body against his for a moment longer, kissing you again.

“Alright, princess, I really gotta go. Maybe I can see you later,” he sighs as he opens the door, “sound good?”

“At the very least, I’d hope you call me,” you tell him and pull him by his shirt to kiss him again. “Good luck with the investor, Dean.”


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as he leaves, you feel your stomach sink. You didn’t want him to leave, as usual. You can’t believe how much you liked him already.

You look around the apartment and decide to get some cleaning done while you still have some energy. It only took about an hour or two of your time, and you decide to continue to read  _ Catcher _ . The book was so much different now, in the best way. Every time Holden would speak to his Pencey classmates, you could imagine Dean getting into the same type of arguments, calling people morons.

Another hour later, you’re still reading when there’s a knock on the door. You frown as you bookmark your page and head towards the door. You never have unexpected visitors, and you’re slightly worried about who’s on the other side of the door.

You stand on your toes a little to check the peephole and when you see Dean there, you can’t help but grin and open the door quickly. 

“Hey! You’re back!”

He smiles as he walks in and kisses your cheek, “yeah, it ended up being a fantastic meeting. The other guys joined us and we had the guy investing 70 thousand. So, we’re going out tonight, sugar.”

“We as in…”

“The whole group, you and the girls too.” He glances at his watch, “we’ve got a couple hours if you want to grab a bite and get ready?”

“Didn’t you just eat?” You close the door and lead him to the kitchen. “I can make myself something here.”

“I didn’t eat much.”

You didn’t question him, you just open your fridge and look around. You didn’t have much but you could still make something quick for the two of you. He leaves the room to hang his coat and rejoins you in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and watching you flutter around.

“You’re in front of my pans,” you tell him as you stand in front of him.

He just smirks and leans closer, “oh? And what are you going to do about that, princess?” Instead of answering, you give him a pout. He shakes his head, moving slightly to open the cupboard, “that’s not going to work every time, you know.”

“Thank you, baby,” you stand on your toes to kiss him before grabbing a pan and turning back around, beginning to cook. “How did you get 70 out of the guy?”

“You’ll never believe that I charmed my way,” he tells you with sarcasm lacing his voice. “Just laid it on really thick.”

You giggle and continue cooking, “do I have a reason to be jealous?”

“Of course not,” he tells you and suddenly his hands are on your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder, “I’m yours, sugar.”

Your heart skips a beat and you move your head to allow him access to your neck. He takes the hint and places soft kisses there, then to your jaw. You let him continue a moment before turning your face to his and kissing him properly. When you break away, he lets out a soft sigh and nuzzles back into your shoulder, watching you finish cooking. 

The two of you eat at your table, and you can’t help but bring up the book. And the notes folded up inside.

“Oh, I left those in there?” He’s blushing slightly, and you know it’s something he wanted to keep secret. “I was just trying to think of discussion points, in case you quizzed me on it.”

“Tell me your favorite part.”

“I really liked those last few pages, but it might be because of the company.” He shrugs, “I also liked that bit in the beginning where his roommate, what’s his name?”

“Stradlater.”

“Yeah, when Stradlater told Holden he was taking Jane out. How Holden remembers when he played checkers with her and how she always kept her kings in the back.”

You smile as you listen to Dean recall other details from the book that he enjoyed, the characters he thought were less interesting and the ones who made a bigger impact. You listen intently and nod along when you hear him tell you something you agree with. 

“He was very blunt,” he says, “everything was to the point and he knew exactly what kind of people he didn’t like.”

“The phonies?”

Dean laughs and nods, “the phonies.”

“It makes me happy that you read it, I like hearing other people’s views on it.” You stand, grabbing the plates from the table and go to the sink, washing them. He follows you, nudging you out of the way.

“I’ve got this, you go relax or get ready.”

“It’s okay,” you begin to protest, but he just raises an eyebrow and takes the sponge from your hand. “Are you sure?”

“You made the food, let me contribute something.”

You kiss his cheek before heading to your room. You know you can’t wear the same outfit as last time, especially if the other girls were going to be there. It takes you a little while, but finally you find a worthy outfit and begin to change. You move to the bathroom to do your hair and makeup. Dean’s found you after he cleaned up and sits on the counter again. 

His eyes are trained on you as you apply your eyeshadow and you can feel a slight pressure to not mess up. After you get the eyeliner and mascara applied, you look back down to your lipstick choices and find a brighter shade of red. Slowly, so you don’t smudge it anywhere, you apply it.

Dean lets out a quiet moan, “god, I’d like to see that color stretched out around my cock.”

“Maybe if you’re lucky,” you try to contain your blush, “you’ll get to later.”

“Not right now?” He mock pouts, but slides off the counter and turns to look in the mirror, running a hand through his wave. “The only thing I don’t like about that color is that I won’t get to mess around with you in the car before we get there.”

“Trust me, there will be plenty of time for that another night,” you tell him. “Are we headed out soon?”

“Yeah, the traffic from here to Beverly Hills is going to be insane, the sooner we leave the better.”

“Give me a couple more minutes to grab my stuff.” You exit the room and notice he’s still in there, adjusting his clothes, rolling his sleeves up and fixing his hair again. 

The two of you are ready to leave after just a couple more minutes and you follow Dean down the steps. You make your way to the familiar green car and get in. Music starts to blare when he turns the car on and he reaches to turn it off. 

“We can listen to this,” you tell him, “I don’t mind.”

He lets out a short laugh, “we normally have it off or pretty low, huh?”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “I do enjoy listening to music.”

He shakes his head, and keeps time by tapping his steering wheel. You allow the silence between you two to be filled with the music when you suddenly remember the experience you had last time you went out to the club with the guys.

“Hey, uh,” you clear your throat, “do you know if Charlie is still seeing that girl Michelle?”

“Who?”

“The one from last time,” you remind him, “she made fun of my outfit.”

Dean frowns, nodding slowly, “I haven’t heard anything about her recently. Why are you asking?”

Suddenly you’re very aware of the differences in your life and Dean’s. He fits in, he’s beautiful and rich and charming. You know you can’t compete with the other girls he’s around. You bite the inside of your cheek before speaking. 

“Just don’t feel like putting up with that shit tonight,” you tell him. 

“Don’t worry about her,” he tells you, “you know I’m always in your corner.”

“Thank you,” you almost have to mumble to keep the waver out of your voice.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say unconvincingly.

He frowns, looking over to you for a moment, “don’t lie, sugar, you can trust me.”

“I know I can.” You pause, not sure how to continue. “I don’t think I… We don’t really match, Dean.”

“You’re going to have to explain, doll, I’m not following.”

“You are in with a certain crowd. I wouldn’t have even caught your eye if we had been in school together. I barely can afford that shitty apartment, and you’re driving this and live in a house bigger than anywhere I’ve lived. The girls you hang out with are… so gorgeous. I could never compete with them.”

“First of all, I would never want you to compete with anyone, I just want you,” he tells you, reaching one hand over to take yours into his, “secondly, I think you are stunning. And if we were in high school together, I wouldn’t have dated you. That part is right. But that’s cause I wasn’t in any advanced classes and I would have probably never even met you.”

You shake your head, “it’s just hard for me to understand someone like you wanting to be with someone like me.”

He brings your hand to his lips to press a kiss there. “You know I enjoy being around you. I like talking to you and I  _ really _ like getting to touch you. You’re mine, and I don’t want another girl, princess.”

You squeeze his hand, “really?”

“Really.”

With a nod, you thank him and feel a little bit better knowing that he’s opened up a little back to you.

Dean starts telling you about a tennis match he had recently, and you know he wants you to be comfortable and to distract you from your other worries. You try to focus on his story and smile at his efforts. He really knew you. You’re in the car for almost an hour and a half because of this traffic.

As you pull into the lot of the club, Dean points at a red car. “That’s Charlie’s new car, so I’m guessing the others are close if not already here.”

Always the gentleman, he parks and helps you out of the car, walking you to the entrance. The same kind of people are here as the last time, and the shot waitress recognizes Dean again, and after a second glance to you, she recognizes you too and greets you.

You hear a familiar voice call out to you, and you turn to see Rosanna dancing on Kyle. You give her a smile and wave at her before the two of you walk over to meet her. 

“Hey! You two made it!” She looks at Dean, then back at you with a knowing smile, “everyone else is over in the VIP section.”

“You’re not,” Dean points out to her.

“Felt like dancing,” she tells him and turns back to Kyle. Kyle laughs and pulls her closer. Dean leads you away, bringing you to the bar before you head to the VIP section. You greet everyone, and swear you see Sydney roll her eyes when Dean says hi. 

“Love the lip color,” Q gestures to her own mouth.

“Shit,” Charlie mentions from across the circle, with a different girl than Michelle, “all of you girls have such interesting colors. Maybe we should have a rainbow party.”

You know he’s probably joking, and to the whole group, but he’s looking right at you as he speaks. You freeze, not sure how to respond.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean steps half a step in front of you and growls, “you don’t know her that well, that was insanely disrespectful.”

“Sorry, man,” he holds his hands up in defense, “I meant it as a joke. Most of the girls are taken, anyway!”

You give a small smile to Dean, thankful for his interference. Charlie looks at you and apologizes again. You nod, “thank you.”

You turn to look at your boyfriend and smile, whispering discreetly, “thank you for defending my honor, Ser Dean.”

“Well,” he chuckles, squeezing your hand briefly, “you are my princess.”

You blush and turn your attention away from him. The group goes back to small conversations, and Dean stands by Q and Scott, taking shots with them and getting another drink. You end up nursing your first beverage and standing next to Joe, who doesn’t drink.

“I guess I have you to thank for getting Dean to read,” he jokes.

“Oh, you saw him reading  _ Catcher _ ?”

“I did. Is that one of your favorites?”

“It is!” You begin to gush about the book, listing your favorite parts and tell Joe you’ve read it at least ten times. He nods along and interjects some of his own favorite parts while you talk.

“No, really, it was my favorite in high school, too.”

As you’re about to ask him another question, you feel Dean’s hand on your lower back. You turn your head to look at him and he kisses you in front of everyone. For a second, you’re lost in it and kiss him back. Then it hits you where you are and you can taste the alcohol on his mouth.

“Dean,” you push him away gently, “what…?”

“Are you two together?” Kyle asks, looking to Joe to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah, she’s mine,” Dean tells everyone. You blush, smiling at the warm feeling that washes over you, but push him away and excuse the two of you. When you’re away from the group you frown at him.

“What’s your damage?”

He pouts, “you were talking to Joe.”

“Yeah, he’s my friend.”

“About  _ Catcher _ ,” he takes your hand, “I thought that was our thing, sugar.”

You melt on the spot, smiling once again at him and stepping closer, “Dean Karny, you’re jealous.”

“Yeah,” he nods, not hesitating or denying it in the slightest.

“You’re also a little drunk.”

“Yeah.”

“It can be our thing from now on,” you tell him, “I won’t talk to Joe about it anymore. But  _ you _ need to calm down a little, I’m all yours.”

He hums and ducks his head slightly to place a kiss on your lips and you bring him back to the group. No one says anything about it, but you know they’ve got some questions. Dean doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, having you lean against his chest and cuddling close, while he sobers up, not drinking anymore. 

As you walk back to his car at the end of the night, he holds your hand in his and walks close to you. He opens the car door and helps you in.

When he gets into the car, he sits there for a moment and then sighs. “I’m happy that they know, but god I handled that wrong.”

You adjust in your seat to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay, it was bound to happen eventually. You know I can’t keep my hands off you most of the time anyway.”

You get a smile from him with that before he shakes his head, “I don’t want to face them in the morning.”

“You can stay over at my place again, baby.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” you reassure him and lean over to kiss him. “You can even sleep in.”

The drive back to your apartment is much quicker with no traffic. You lead Dean up the stairs to your apartment and realize how sluggish he is.

“Are you tired, baby?” You ask him as you unlock the door.

“Exhausted.”

You pull him into the apartment and take his jacket for him. He allows you to help him into the bedroom, too, before he undresses down to his boxers. You follow suit and drop your clothes into the hamper, just wearing your panties and bra. 

He pulls you close and kisses you softly. You almost expect him to deepen the kiss, but he doesn’t. He stays tame and slowly gets into the bed, pulling you with him. Still, even while you’re making out on the bed, he doesn’t go any further.

It feels nice to have him just kiss you, to feel his hands touch your face and run over your hair. He breaks away and lets out a content sigh. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” you place another kiss to his lips before readjusting and cuddling up close to his chest. You don’t remember even having time to think about the events of that night before you’re drifting off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your relationship with Dean is heating up more and more.

In the morning, you wake up to find Dean a little further away, so it’s easy to slip out of the bed without waking him. You find a pair of pajama shorts and a Berkeley hoodie before you leave the room. You hum to yourself as you start the coffee machine. Once you pour yourself a mug, you head back to the couch with a notepad and pen.

You draw a line down the center of the page, but title it  _ Dating Dean, pros v cons _ . The conversation from the night before had really rattled you, more than you had liked to admit, and while you already could tell it would hurt if the relationship ended, it would hurt even more if it ended down the line. So, you start with the negatives, but only think of one thing to write down.

_ Cons: _

_ -out of my league, too perfect _

_ Pros: _

_ -seems to understand me _

_ -the way his face wrinkles when he smiles _

_ -didn’t make fun of my fear of thunder _

_ -fantastic kisser _

_ -his hands are always warm _

_ -makes me laugh _

_ -gentleman _

_ -the cute sighs he makes in his sleep _

_ -read “Catcher” to talk to me more (!!!!) _

_ -cares about my safety _

_ -the rasp in his voice that gets even scratchier when he’s turned on _

_ -when he calls me sugar _

_ -the way he leans on my desk _

_ -that one time he was singing “Love my Way” in the shower cause he thought I couldn’t hear him, but I did and he’s a great singer _

_ -the wave in his hair _

_ -his polos _

_ -makes me realize I deserve more than others have given me _

_ -cute mole on his neck that I want to kiss but don’t know if he’d like that _

_ -pays attention to me when I talk to him _

You’re about to add some more, but you hear him walking down the hall. You flip to a different page and hide it with your other things on the table. You turn to look at him shuffling into the kitchen and your heart absolutely soars when you see he’s wearing your Oakland Raiders hoodie. You watch for another moment as he finds his way around and makes himself a bowl of cereal. He eats it over the sink, almost too quickly, and then makes his way over to the couch, laying down with his head in your lap.

You let out a short laugh, “good morning.”

“Mmm.”

“Now look who’s the clothes thief,” you tease, tugging one of the strings on the hood.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, “they’re in LA now. This hoodie is obsolete.”

You laugh again and he shuts his eyes. “Still tired?”

“Mhm,” he nods, “woke up and you weren’t there. Figured I’d sleep better near you.”

“We can move back to the bed, if you want.”

“No, I’m fine. Can you scratch my scalp, though?”

Instead of answering, you just did it, gently scraping your fingernails against his skin. You can feel him relax immediately, stress melting away. You continue to give him a soft scalp massage until you hear a quiet snore. Slowly, you move your hand away and get the notepad, hovering your pen under the “pros” list.

_ -looks adorable in Oakland Raiders gear _

Your Sunday with Dean is filled with cuddles, naps, watching movies, and a couple of fun trips to the bedroom. As the night nears, he knows he should go home and you wish he wouldn’t. When you had told him that, he did end up staying for another hour or so, making sure there was no way you wouldn’t be able to miss him.

The next few days are easy now that everyone knows the two of you are together. You don’t have to hide any glances or brief conversations. Though, he’s been in way more meetings recently and you didn’t get to see him much during the day. It was sometimes torture to see him breeze by your desk while talking to someone else. But he always made up for it, he always drove you home or brought you to lunch. He would ask you questions about your life, and you would listen to his stories about his. In the car, you’d always make sure you got at least a few good night kisses, and he happily gave them to you.

Everything was good.

This particular day, however, has been dragging by, and you tap your pen on your desk as you try to keep your eyes off of the clock. The boys are in the conference room with Ron, going over investments, which left you alone to man the phones and take messages. However, no one has called during the forty-five minutes that the boys have already been in their meeting.

You wrack your brain, trying to decide on something to pass the time when an idea comes to you. Giving a quick look towards the conference room to assure the door was closed, you abandon your desk and make your way to the bathroom. You slip your panties off of your legs and bunch them up in your hand, making certain they are not visible.

Before you exit the bathroom, you crack the door open to make certain that no one was around. Being greeted with silence, you slip out of the bathroom, trudging towards your desk to scoop up a stack of folders, hiding your panties on top and holding the folders close to your chest. You keep them snug against you, to avoid dropping them and being caught.

With a deep inhale, only momentarily rethinking your plan, you walk down the hallway towards Dean’s office. On the journey, you walk past the conference room, slowing down your walking to glance inside the window while you go. You spot Dean immediately, seeing him speaking to Kyle, but as you pass, he glances up and you connect eyes. He gives you a pleasant smile, and you respond with a teasing smirk -- the smile fades from Dean’s face, and you know he is suspicious.

Speeding up your pace at the thought of Dean catching you before completing your plan, you enter Dean’s office, hurrying to his desk. You slide the side drawer open, knowing it is the one he opens multiple times a day to retrieve files, and you drop your panties on top. As you close the drawer again, you hear talking nearby, and as you glance up towards the glass wall of the office, your eyes find Dean, walking with determination towards the door.

“Is there something you’re looking for, princess?” he asks, slipping his hands in his pockets as he stops just inside the door. You smirk at him, but as you notice Ron and Joe entering the room behind him, you hide the grin.

“No, sir, Mr. Karny,” you say, sweetly. “Just dropping off some files for you.” The corner of Dean’s mouth pulls into a knowing smile as you set the files onto his desk. “Excuse me,” you mumble, brushing past Dean and nodding at Joe and Ron on your way out of the room.

You know that it will not take long before Dean opens his desk drawer and finds what you left, so you decide to make yourself visible for when the moment comes. The supply closet is just diagonal from Dean’s office and gives you the perfect line of sight without being too obvious. You occupy yourself by slowly collecting the supplies that you need to restock your desk, every so often giving a sly glance to Dean’s office.

After what feels like forever, you see Dean reach for his desk drawer, but his eyes are still aimed across the desk at Joe and Ron. You smile to yourself, watching him pull the drawer open, his hand reaching inside before he has the opportunity to look. From the look on his face, you can tell the exact moment his fingers come in contact with your panties, and he lowers his head to peer into the drawer. The grin spreads wider across your lips, watching him pull the clothing from the drawer, balled into his fist.

For a moment, you panic when you watch him holding the panties where Ron and Joe can see, but you see the uncertainty fall from Dean’s face as he lets out a laugh. He stuffs your panties into the breast pocket of his jacket, leaving some of the fabric hanging over the edge of the pocket as though he is displaying it proudly. He says something to the other men that you cannot decipher, but they all laugh together.

Dean’s eyes trail to you through the window and his face becomes serious for a moment before he focuses his attention back to Ron and Joe. Your cheeks flush, watching how nonchalant he is about the incident, and thinking about how cocky he has to be to present it in his pocket. You grab the supplies that you need, and close the door, making your way past Dean’s office with your head down to not draw more attention.

Once you are back at your desk, you begin refilling all of your supplies, trying to think of how the day will play out once you are alone with Dean. The voices coming from down the hallway pull you from your work and you peek to see Ron and Joe walking in your direction, in deep conversation. As they walk past your desk, Ron gives you a smirk, nodding his head, while Joe avoids eye contact, walking Ron out the front door.

You are too busy watching the men exit the building that you do not hear the sound of someone storming towards you. When fingers wrap around your bicep, yanking you from your desk, you let out a yelp, looking up to see Dean dragging you along behind him.

“Dean,” you say, trying to loosen his fingers from their vice-like grip on your arm. He continues to pull you along in silence until he reaches the supply closet, opening the door and shoving you inside. When he enters the room with you, he slams the door shut and closes in on you, pinning you back to the wall by your hips.

“You think you’re so  _ fucking _ funny, huh?” he snaps, his face not close enough to touch yours, but just nearly there.

“What do you mean, daddy?” you whisper. Dean shakes his head, a devious look on his face. He kicks your feet farther apart, and does not bother teasing you when his hand pushes up the front of your skirt. A loud gasp falls from your mouth when Dean’s fingers touch your folds, but his free hand quickly clasps over your mouth.

“Leaving your wet panties in my desk like that,” he begins. “You must really want daddy to teach you a lesson, huh?” You struggle to keep your eyes on him due to the way his fingers are stroking your clit. “Answer me,” he demands, his voice rasping even more as he uncovers your mouth.

“Teach me a lesson, daddy. I’m just a little slut begging to be punished. Please?”

“Ooh, princess,” he breathes out, closing his eyes. “You are so unbelievably sexy.” He leans in and kisses you forcefully enough to bump your head against the wall hard. You blindly feel for his wrist, pulling his hand from between your thighs and lifting it towards your mouth. Dean barely has enough time to break the kiss before you shove his fingers into your mouth to suck them clean. “Daddy’s whore loves the taste of her own cunt, huh?” he whispers. You hum in response, pulling his fingers out of your mouth with one last, slow lick. “You don’t get these panties back, do you hear me?” he asks. “Drip down your thighs for the rest of the day. That will teach you to behave yourself.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, not breaking eye contact. Dean hums his approval, giving you one last soft kiss on your lips before he suddenly leaves you alone in the closet to collect yourself.

Every time you see Dean the rest of the day, you can see your panties in his breast pocket, and you feel another wave of arousal, feeling the wet slick drip between your thighs. At the end of the day, you’re not sure how you’re going to stand without the very obvious fact that you have made your skirt wet.

It’s six o’clock by the time Dean gets to your desk and he’s still got the panties in his pocket. He leans onto your desk and smirks as you look back up to him. You know he’s enjoying this far too much. 

“Your place or mine?” You bite your lip, anxious to see what he will do with you now that you will soon be alone.

He tilts his head, looking you up and down, “let’s do mine tonight, sugar. I’m sure your neighbors are annoyed with your slutty moans already, they don’t need to hear them tonight.”

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire as he mentions your neighbors. You don’t know if they can actually hear you, but you do know you feel awful that there’s even a chance. He smirks and watches you intently as you stand, trying to keep your legs as clenched together as possible. When he notices what you’re doing, he laughs and continues to watch you walk towards the door.

“You okay, princess?”

“I hope you don’t mind wet seats.”

He laughs again, louder this time and follows behind to take you to the car.

“Careful not to ruin it, doll, I just got the interior detailed.” He winks and you know he’s planning something almost evil that night. Another wave hits you as you think of what it could possibly be.


	9. Chapter 9

It's a Saturday afternoon, and you’re reading on the couch. Dean had called you earlier and told you he had a surprise that he’d bring by later. Even with your best attempts to get a hint, he doesn’t give an ounce of it away. You’re not sure when he would get here, so you take up your next book, another Stephen King re read,  _ The Shining _ .

When Dean finally knocks on the door, you’re at a very compelling part, so you walk to the door while still reading. You only glance up to smile at Dean and look back down.

“Really, sugar? Is this the greeting I get?”

You hold a finger up for a second, then move the bookmark to mark the end of the chapter. You snap the book closed and put it on a table, turning back to Dean, taking him in and looking at the red polo and khakis. He chuckles as you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek.

“I was at a very interesting part, I couldn’t just end it!”

He kisses you properly and when he breaks, he holds out the bag. “Why don’t we go to the bedroom to open your present, hm?”

“Ooo,” you take the bag with one hand, but grab his hand with your free one as you lead him back to the bedroom. “How was your day?”

“I can guarantee it’s about to get better. And yours?”

You laugh. “Well, I was getting a really bad headache, but I’m happy to see you.” You sit down on the bed and he lounges next to you, watching you with a smirk. Gently, you pull out the wrapping paper and peer inside. A shy smile spreads across your face as you reach in and pull out a very skimpy black lace bra, a small red bow in the center of the front. You look back into the bag when something catches your eye. A matching, even skimpier, thong is also in the bag.

“Since you’re down a pair, I figured I should replace them,” he rasps as you look at the barely-there material. “Although, it  _ is  _ really fucking sexy when you’re not wearing any at all…”

You lean over to kiss him. “Thank you, daddy. Want me to try them on for you?”

“Yes please,” he smirks back at you and you rush to the bathroom to change.

This was a new territory for you. Normally when the two of you got naked, it was from the clothes you were wearing. You didn’t get to start in lingerie. Quickly, you change and spend a moment looking yourself over in the mirror. With a last minute idea, you find the lipstick Dean had liked the previous weekend. You move your hair out of your face and walk back into the bedroom.

He throws whatever he was reading back to your bedside table and looks to you. You spin for him so he can see the back, and he groans deeply. As you face him again, you feel yourself blush a little under his gaze. He reaches forward for you, and you take his hand so he can pull you closer. 

“Look at you,” he coos, pulling you onto his lap, “so sexy, doll. How do you like it?”

“I like these a lot, daddy,” you smile and bat your eyelashes, “how do  _ you _ like it?”

“How about I show you, hm?”

He easily pushes you off of him and onto the bed, rolling over on top of you, kissing your neck and touching you so softly. His fingers dance along your sides and drops one hand to your panties, teasing through the fabric. His teeth biting into your skin.

“I think I left a tie here the other night,” he tells you as he breaks away, still stroking you gently. “Do you know where it is?”

“Dr-dresser,” you mumble. He pushes up and walks toward the dresser and picks up the tie with a smirk. 

“Hands on the headboard.” He watches as you do what he asks. “God, what a good little slut for daddy, huh?”

“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip, “all for you, daddy.”

He wraps the tie around your wrists and then to the headboard, knotting it tight enough where you can’t pull free. “This okay, princess?”

“Perfect,” you reply. He smirks and kisses you before finding his way down your body, touching the lace gently before his fingers push your panties to the side and begins to spread you open to slip his finger inside, pumping shallowly. “Daddy, I want more.”

“Oh you  _ want _ more?” He has a teasing tone in his voice, “what do you want specifically, sugar?”

“I want you to play with my clit, I want you to fuck me with your fingers until I can’t stand it. I want you to fuck me and tease me, please, I—“

You’re not able to finish your sentence because he thrusts his fingers violently and quickly, pumping in and out, crooking them every so often, his thumb on your clit.

“Fuck!”

“Watch your mouth,” he teases, biting at your collar bone. You tug on your wrists a little and buck your hips up. He smirks against your skin and moves back to pull his polo over his head, tossing it aside. He stands off the bed to drop his pants and boxers, too. He climbs back onto the bed and puts your legs around your waist. He moves the thong just to the side, giving you a smug smile before sliding into you with a groan. “You feel so good.”

“Mmm,” you moan in response, not able to form words in your brain. He’s biting at your neck and using a hand to rub at your clit, pounding into you hard and fast. “D-Dean…”

“That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers and continues to rub at you. It amazes you that he’s able to go even hard, filling you up with every movement, making you feel every bit of him. “So tight… Make me feel so good, just like a good little whore should, hm?”

“Yes, daddy,” you tug on your restraints, wishing you could grab his shoulders. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it sugar, you want to come all over my cock? Come for me, princess.”

His encouragement is almost like magic, you can feel yourself clench around him as your orgasm rips through you, moaning out his name and cursing. He continues to thrust into you and reach his own peak, finishing buried deep inside you. 

Before he unties you, he nuzzles his nose into your neck, pressing a kiss or two there. “You are so incredible.”

You laugh, “a little help here, please?”

He pushes himself up and begins to untie you, and as soon as you’re free, you pull him close to kiss him, running your hands through his hair. You kiss him another time, and then push him to his side, cuddling close to him.

“Thank you again for the present,” you tell him.

“Thank you for modeling it for me,” he chuckles, rubbing a hand on your back. 

“You smell different,” you tell him.

He laughs again, “I had a tennis match, took a shower at the country club. Their soap is different.”

You hum softly, “I don’t like it.”

“Oh? Then maybe we should shower.”

“I don’t want to get up.”

“C’mon, sugar, I’ll sing to you. I know you like that.”

You furrow your brow, pulling back to look at him fully. “What?”

“I would also not mind you kissing the mole on my neck, ya know.”

It clicks then. He saw your pros v cons list. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“It was a nice confidence booster.”

You sit up and shake your head, “I shouldn’t have wrote that, it was just—“

“Hey,” he sits up too, holding your arms. “Sugar, calm down. I’m flattered that you pay this much attention to me.”

“I’m embarrassed that you saw it,” you admit, but give him a smile, “will you really sing for me?”

“Anything for you, princess.”

Dean stays with you for a few more hours before he leaves; you attempt to convince him to stay, however, he tells you about the multiple meetings he will be caught up with all day on Sunday. You reluctantly allow him to leave, after stealing more and more kisses from him, much to his delight.

You spend most of the day Sunday catching up on household chores -- laundry, vacuuming, cleaning -- before going grocery shopping. By the time you finish stocking the refrigerator and cabinets, you find yourself to be exhausted, so you take a hot shower to loosen up your tight muscles. You do not bother putting any clothes on, opting to climb into your sheets completely naked just to see how it feels. As you begin to snuggle into your sheets, loving the feeling of them rubbing against your bare skin, your phone rings -- glancing to your clock, you find it to be almost nine o’clock, and figure it has to be Dean.

“Hello?” you answer.

“ _ Heyyyy _ , princess,” Dean drawls. You chuckle to yourself:  _ he has been drinking _ .

“Hey, handsome,” you laugh. “Had a few drinks tonight?”

“I may have,” he replies. “Just a few, though. Took some investors out for dinner.”

“I see,” you respond.

“What did...uh, what did you do today?”

“You don’t have to pretend to care about that,” you laugh. “I can tell from the sound of your voice that’s not why you called.” The chuckle that Dean lets out turns quickly into a drunken giggle.

“You got me, sugar,” he chuckles. “So, what are you doing?” His voice drops an octave, and he lets out a soft hum after he speaks -- it becomes clear what he is trying to do.

“Well, I just took a shower,” you say. “And now I’m in bed.”

“That is just not detailed enough,” Dean mutters. “How can I picture it better? Hm, maybe if you tell me what you’re wearing, I can see it.” You chuckle softly, relaxing back into your pillows.

“I’m not wearing anything.”

“What?”

“I’m naked.”

“That…” He clears his throat, letting out a slow breath. “I hope you weren’t planning on touching yourself without me there.”

“No, I know better than that, daddy.”

“Have I told you how much that fucking turns me on?” he breathes. “When you switch gears, and turn into my nasty, needy little whore and call me ‘daddy’...I never want to let you go when I hear you say that.” You hear Dean pull in a long, deep breath before he continues. “It makes me want to tie you up,” he whispers. “And touch you...tease you until you are teetering on the edge, and I’d stop just before you get there. I’d do it again and again, because I think my girl would look incredibly sexy with her arms tied over her head...whining and dripping and  _ begging _ .”

“Yeah?” you gasp out, feeling yourself growing wet at his description.

“That got you hot, didn’t it?” There is a certain breathiness in his voice, along with a hint of amusement --  _ drunk Dean is incorrigible. _ “I can tell it did,” he affirms. “You love when I talk to you like this because you’re daddy’s little slut, isn’t that right?”

“I am,” you swallow hard, squeezing your legs together.

“If I was there, I’d have you tied up right now,” he says. “Maybe even use another tie to blindfold you so you don’t know when I’m gonna touch you.” You hum quietly, closing your eyes so you can picture what Dean tells you. “Can you feel my fingers on you right now?” he whispers. “Pinching your nipples...dragging down your stomach and squeezing your thighs. And then playing with your pussy while I watch you struggle to get your hands free.”

“I wish you were here, daddy,” you groan, feeling your wetness becoming unbearable.

“I know, princess,” he responds. “Me, too. But, ya’know what? You sound tired. Maybe we should call it a night.”

“What?” you ask, completely caught off guard by the quick way Dean switches gears.

“I want you to get some sleep,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay, princess?” You scoff, your mouth agape as you try to comprehend what Dean has just done --  _ he worked you up on purpose just to leave you hanging. _

“Fine,” you reply, flatly. You hear him chuckle on the other line, before taking a deep breath.

“Goodnight, sugar.”

You hang the phone onto the cradle and drop back into the sheets, staring up at the ceiling with a frown. There is an apparent tightness in your stomach, along with a dampness settling between your thighs —  _ in this moment, you hate Dean _ .

You decide to take another shower in an effort to calm yourself, but it does not help. Even drinking a cup of chamomile tea did not help settle you, as you find yourself staring at the ceiling in frustration once again. The entire night dragged, and by the time you are roused by your alarm clock, you have only slept for three hours.


	10. Chapter 10

You storm towards your desk, clenching a thermos full of coffee in your hand. Slamming your belongings down onto your desk, you remove your jacket and hang it up, before taking your seat. One by one, the boys enter the office, saying their greetings to you as they pass. Finally, Dean arrives, and plops into the seat beside your desk; you make no effort to look at him, but focus solely on your paperwork.

“How was your night, princess?” he asks.

“Leave me alone,” you huff, grabbing your thermos and taking a sip. Dean laughs quietly, scooting his chair closer.

“What’s wrong?” he chuckles.

“You know what you did,” you snap. “Don’t play dumb, you’re smarter than you look.” You hear Dean scoff in response, but you still do not bother looking up.

“I guess you were too worked up to get to sleep, huh?”

“Don’t you have someone else you need to bug?” you ask. Dean rolls his chair directly beside you, pressing his mouth to your ear.

“You are so sexy when you’re pissed off,” he breathes. “But you shouldn’t talk to daddy that way; that’s how you get punished.” He rolls back from you, and stands from the chair, leaving you to go to his office. You feel the fire burning in your stomach, but fight the urge to watch him leave, as much as you would like to.

The day progresses as normal, and you find yourself becoming more and more tense thinking about how smug Dean must be. When noon approaches, Joe tells you that they will all be stepping out for lunch with an investor, and he leaves some money for you to order food in. All of the boys walk past your desk, out the door, but as they go, you realize that Dean is not with them. You wait a few minutes after they exit to see if Dean follows late, but he does not. 

You stand from your desk, casually making your way down the hall towards Dean’s office. When he comes into view, he is leaning on the front of his desk, arms crossed, already staring in your direction. A small whimper echoes in your throat at the sight of him: blue polo shirt with the collar popped and a nice pair of jeans with an intense look on his face.

“Thought you were going out for lunch,” you say, leaning in the doorway.

“No, I have other plans.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Get over here,” he says, pointing to the spot in front of him. You shoot a quick glance at the front of the office to make certain you are alone, before you enter the office stopping directly in front of him. “You look like you’re really fucking horny right now,” he mutters. “Are you?” He reaches towards the hem of your skirt but you slap his hand away, an action which makes his eyes widen in surprise.

“Because of what you did last night,” you begin. “And how delicious you look right now, I want to do what  _ I  _ want.”

“Oh, is that right?” he asks, with an amused smirk. You nod your head and dip towards him to press a hungry kiss to his lips; Dean grunts softly in response. As he attempts to deepen the kiss, you break away from him, giving him a devious smirk. “What’s that look?” he asks, but you ignore his question, dropping to your knees in front of him. “Hey, now you--”

“You know how you said that I’m sexy when I’m pissed off?” you ask, peering up at him as you unbutton his jeans. “Well, I’m  _ furious _ at you for leaving me so worked up last night. So, don’t talk, unless it’s to say how good this feels.” Dean smirks at you, using both of his hands to grasp the edge of the desk on either side of his body.

Pulling him from his jeans, finding him to be hard already, you begin to stroke your hand along his length, feeling him grow even harder in your grasp. As you drag your tongue over his tip, you peer up at him from under your lashes just to watch how he closes his eyes and parts his lips for a moan. Slipping him inside of your mouth, you start sucking slowly, listening to his soft gasps the deeper you take him.

"Shit," he mutters, placing his hand on the back of your head. You moan softly around his length, feeling his fingers twisting softly in your hair. He urges you to take him deeper, mumbling that he wants to feel your throat, which only intensifies the ache between your own legs. You do as he asks, relaxing your throat so you can take him deeper. “You know anybody can walk in and see us, hm?” he asks, looking down at you. You pull him from your mouth with a gasp and use your saliva to stroke along him as you glance to his face.

“Oh, then we’d better give them something really good to look at, don’t you think?” you ask, reaching both of your hands to your sides and hiking your skirt up. Dean watches until you have the material bunched around your waist, displaying the thong that he had purchased you.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, watching the reflection of the two of you in the glass. Setting your hands on his hips, you pin him harder to his desk so you can bob your head freely over him. "Oh, God," he hisses. "You look so good on your knees like this, princess. Sticking your ass out like a little slut. Your mouth..." He trails off, losing his words as you hollow out your cheeks and pick up your pace. “It feels like velvet,” he says. "Fuck, I'm so close.”

"Mmhmm," you hum around him, making him inhale sharply. Dean keeps his hand on the back of your head, helping your movements, while his other hand is clawing at the desk beneath him. Suddenly, the telephone rings, causing the both of you to jump; you remove Dean from your mouth, stroking along him as you look up to lock eyes. “You gotta take that?” you ask, before trailing your tongue from underside of his shaft to the tip.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I can’t...they’ll call back.” You laugh at his eagerness, and slip him back into your mouth, resuming the previous pace you had set. "Fuck, I'm gonna come," he grunts.

Pulling back just enough to suck harshly on his tip, you use your hand to continue the pace along the rest of him. His legs tremble, and his grip on your hair becomes stronger as a string of expletives fall from his lips. With a moan much louder than he should allow in the office, he spills in your mouth, dripping down the back of your throat. You groan and resist the urge to touch yourself as you swallow everything. You pull him from mouth, your lips making a soft pop as you look up into his eyes.

“Was that satisfactory, Mr. Karny?” you ask, innocently. Dean stares down at you with a grin.

“You are asking for trouble, sugar,” he says, watching you wipe your mouth clean before you suck the taste of him from your fingers. He fixes himself into his jeans once more, and reaches down to grab hold of your arm, yanking you to your feet. “I should punish you for being so insubordinate,” he mutters, but you pull from his grasp and wiggle your skirt back down your hips.

“The boys will be back any minute,” you say, simply, as you straighten out your skirt. “I have some meetings I need to schedule for all of you, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“What?”

You do not bother responding to Dean, but turn on your heel and head to the bathroom to clean yourself up before returning to your desk.

The remainder of the day is spent at your desk, scheduling meetings and forwarding more calls than you thought possible. Not long after the other boys returned from lunch, Dean approached your desk, but only dropped off a stack of papers he needed filed before returning to his office. You laughed to yourself as you watched him, noticing a certain frustration in his face and you knew that you have finally gotten to him in a way that he gets to you.

At the end of the day, as you pack up your belongings, Dean walks up beside you, twirling his keys around his finger. You pause, and look at him expectantly, but he only smirks slightly, nodding his head towards the exit.

During the car ride to Dean’s house, neither of you speak, but instead sit in an unusual silence; it is not uncomfortable, but is much more intense. You think that Dean must have a plan for when you arrive at his house, but you have a plan of your own and do not intend to deviate from it.

As soon as you enter the house, you navigate to Dean’s room, throwing your belongings onto the bed. You can hear Dean coming into the room behind you, but you ignore him, undressing down to your undergarments. Turning around, you finally face Dean, who is leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. You give him a quick, tight smile, and walk directly to the bathroom, not saying a single word.

Once you set the shower to a decent temperature, you step inside and allow the water to rain down upon you, the heat stinging at your skin. Through the frosted glass of the shower, you can make out Dean’s form as he enters the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Your plan is beginning to come together.

You start out slow, dragging your hands down your neck, fingers tracing along the spots that Dean usually likes to tease. Letting out a quiet moan, you cup your breasts, pinching your nipples harder than you ordinarily would, shocking yourself enough to emit an even louder moan of pleasure. You opt to let one hand trail lower, dragging down your stomach to your thighs. Leaning against the wall facing the shower door and spreading your thighs apart, you begin to stroke your clit while you still tweak your nipple.

“Mmm,  _ fuck _ ,” you breathe, still keeping your eyes glued on Dean’s shape on the other side of the shower. From his stance, you know his arms are folded, and he is leaning against the counter, watching you. Allowing your fingers to slip towards your entrance, you dip them inside and feel the way your juices have pooled there. “Oh, God,” you whisper, closing your eyes and getting lost in your senses.

It happens quicker than you can comprehend, but Dean is suddenly in the shower, kneeling down and hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. You barely have time to process what is happening before his mouth is on your clit, and two of his fingers are shoving inside of you.

“Fuck, you held on longer than I thought you would,” you chuckle, breathlessly, bracing yourself against the wall, and using one hand to grab onto Dean’s hair. He lets out a huff against you, and does not stop his work, desperate to get you off.

Much to your surprise, as you feel your climax rapidly approaching, Dean pulls away, and stands before you. His soft pink lips are parted, now slightly brighter, swollen and slick with your juices as he breathes heavily. A smirk spreads across your own lips as you see the intensity of his gaze, but before you can bask in it, he closes in on you, his body pinning yours against the wall as he claims your mouth for a kiss.

Your head is hazy with your neglected orgasm and the taste of yourself on Dean’s lips, but you feel him lift your leg to his waist, pinning it there as he uses his free hand to guide his length inside of you. You break from the kiss, letting out a quiet gasp as you press your face against his neck.

Dean does not tease, his thrusts are quick and pointed -- his only mission is to get both of you off as quickly as possibly. You know that it will not take long, for either of you, as he is breathing ragged and slamming you so hard into the wall you fear it will cave. Your hands desperately claw at his back, nails no doubt dragging along to leave angry red marks.

As your climax hits, your nails dig in hard, pulling him closer to you and bucking against his motions. It only takes a few moments before you feel Dean finish inside of you, as he lets out a strangled moan of his own. You both stay still, holding one another as the water still falls upon you, the temperature having dropped a few degrees.

“You were a little bit bossy earlier,” he mumbles, kissing your cheek. “And fingering yourself just now without my permission? You deserve more of a punishment for that, but goddamn if I couldn’t keep my cool when I heard you moaning.” He tips his head back enough to look into your eyes. “Consider it a warning,” he adds. “Don’t try to boss me around again, princess.” You can tell from the look in his eyes that he is being playful, but only slightly sincere; you laugh and go along.

“Well, don’t wind me up and then leave me hanging again,” you say, pushing his wet hair off of his forehead. “And then I won’t have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Bad girl,” he chuckles, leaning in for one more kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

“Good morning, princess,” Dean stops at your desk like usual. But you don’t look up, you’re embarrassed by the glasses sitting on your nose. You know that he’s going to eventually see them, your optometrist had asked you to wear them while you work and while you read, but you didn’t want him to see them. “Sugar, are you… Are those glasses?”

You let out a small sigh before looking up at him and giving him a very small smile, “hey, baby.”

He has a look of awe on his face, studying your eyes behind the lenses. He reaches out and takes your chin between his fingers, leading your gaze back and forth to look at your whole face.

“I know,” you finally mumble, closing your eyes, “I went to the doctor because of those headaches I’ve been getting and he told me to wear these while I’m reading or working. I hate them.”

“What are you talking about?” He frowns and lets go of your face to walk around the desk and sit on it right next to you. “Why do you hate them?”

“I look like shit.”

“No, you don’t,” he pushes your hair away from your face, “they look really great on you.”

“You don’t have to lie just cause I’m your girlfriend.”

Dean chuckles a little and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t lie to you, princess.”

You look away, back down at the work in front of you. “I stopped wearing them in high school. A guy told me he would have taken me to prom if not for my glasses.”

“He’s lucky I wasn’t there to hear that.”

You laugh shortly and tease back, “yeah. The biggest guy at my school is very lucky that seventeen year old tennis champ Dean Karny wasn’t around.”

He’s quiet for a moment, watching you work and smiling softly at you. Normally, you don’t really mind it, but you can tell he’s thinking. There are gears turning in his head as he keeps his eyes trained on you. It makes it harder for you to focus, making you reread the same line on the calendar over and over. Leaning forward, he kisses the top of your head.

“I, personally, love them,” he whispers, “you’ve got the sexy librarian vibe goin’, doll.”

He stands and walks away, sending you a wink before he’s out of sight. You feel lighter, a little more confident with the glasses and a blush on your face, continuing to work through the next few hours.

“You ready for lunch?”

Your watch reads noon, and you’re definitely ready to eat, but you still have a couple of clients to call before you can leave the office. You tell Dean, and he pulls a chair up to your desk to wait.

The first client you call has his secretary answer, and she puts you on hold. You turn your chair towards Dean while the music plays in your ear.

“What are we getting?”

He shrugs a shoulder, “are you in the mood for anything?”

“Mm,” you think for a moment, “maybe something easy, like a sandwich.”

He nods and then you see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Before you can even question it, or think of what he may be planning, he leans forward, using both hands to slide your glasses off and then put them on his own face. He blinks a few times to adjust his eyes, but then gives you his classic smile and gestures to his face.

“Do I look smarter?”

You laugh and nod, “yes, actually, you look like a TA for a lower level college class.”

“Do I look smarter than Joe?”

“Absolutely,” you play along, smiling at him.

He strikes a Thinker pose and looks into the distance, but he mumbles, “I know it’s a long shot, princess, but do I look smarter than you?”

“Hmm,” you hum as you take a selfishly long look at his profile. “I don’t know about that.”

He looks back at you with a mock look of hurt, but you can see the smile start to spread onto his face. “Rude!”

“You asked!”

He takes your glasses off and hands them back to you, leaning close to place a kiss on your cheek.

You finally get through to the client and set up Kyle’s meeting. The other investor answers right away and you set him up with Charlie. You’re about to get up but the phone rings again. A very frazzled client asks to be put through to Joe, so you let Joe know before you transfer him.

Dean helps you gather your things up and the two of you are headed to the door when Scott runs out from his office, yelling for Dean.

“I’m sorry but there’s a guy I tried selling a car to last week and now he won’t talk to me. He said he’d only talk to you, and if it’s not today, he’s pulling his investment.”

Dean lets out a sigh and gets the finer details from him and turns to you with a frown. “I’m sorry, sugar, it shouldn’t take too long. We can eat after.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, “I don’t mind.”

The two of you hurry to Dean’s car and he apologizes again as he begins to drive towards the meeting point. It wasn’t too far away from the office. As he parks, he groans, “it’s  _ this  _ guy. He’s a creep, you can stay in the car.”

“No, it’s okay. I wanna hear his problem.”

Dean laughs and the two of you exit the car. He greets the man by name, giving him the biggest smile. He introduces you as his girlfriend, and you smile at the label.

“So,” he continues and looks at the gunmetal gray convertible, “what’s the problem here?”

“I couldn’t get it through Scott’s head either. I wanted a chick magnet of a car and you gave me this trash?!”

Dean raises an eyebrow, “it’s a good car, there are only  _ five  _ in America. Of course it’s a chick magnet.”

The guy is angry and he begins to yell at Dean, who is somehow level headed throughout the argument. After a few moments of watching them, you walk to the car, tracing your hand over the hood. When you notice both the men looking at you, you shrug a shoulder.

“I don’t see a problem,” you look at the man and smile, “I know if  _ I  _ was single, I’d fuck a guy who drove this.”

His jaw drops slightly as he looks at you, very obviously checking out your chest, then back at Dean. “I’ll take it.”

“Of course,” Dean smirks at you and looks back to the guy. “Do you have the cash?”

The rest of the transaction is handled easily and quickly. Dean hands the keys over and the two of you part ways with the man. As soon as the door shuts, he looks at you.

“You are amazing. Truly, I thought I was going to lose that sale, princess. You…” He trails off and shakes his head, “thank you.”

“It wasn’t a problem, seeing the guy’s reaction was priceless.”

“I am treating you to the best lunch I can buy.”

You laugh and lean forward to steal a kiss before he drives away. 

  
  
  


“You are telling me I can’t bring my dog on this trip?” Ron is practically screaming into the phone when you, Dean, and Joe walk in. It scares you slightly, so you let the boys be completely in front of you so he wouldn’t snap at you if it comes to it. “You’ll be fucking sorry, that’s what you’ll be.”

He slams the receiver down and lets out a sigh, turning towards you. “Boys.”

“Ron,” Joe nods and clears his throat, “did we come at a bad time?”

“No, it’s fine. Now I just have to find a dog sitter, which means I need a  _ house  _ sitter.” Ron makes eye contact with you from behind your boyfriend and his face breaks into a grin. “Will you do it? You love Kosher, he loves you… You can stay here and I’ll leave my card for food.”

“When?”

“This weekend. I’ll be back Monday night, maybe earlier in the day now that I know I can’t bring him with me.”

You find yourself nodding, “of course, Dean and I can stay here.”

Dean cuts you a look, clearly not expecting you to offer his time up. You can see a little fire behind his eyes and you know he’s going to need some convincing to actually do it.

“It’s settled! I’ll show you how to lock up later. For now,” he turns to Joe, “walk with me.”

The two of them walk away and leave you and Dean there in the living room.

“What did you just volunteer me for, sugar?”

“Dog sitting,” you shrug a shoulder like you don’t understand why he’s asking.

“You know I hate that fuckin’ mutt. This is the last thing I’d want to do with our weekend.”

“Well, what did you have in mind?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and licks his lips before answering, “I was hoping to keep you in my bed all weekend.”

“Mmm, I see.” You bite your lip and look around the living room. “Well, daddy, if we do this, I’ll suck your big cock at his desk. I’ll let you fuck me on this couch. I’ll—“

“Oh, you’ll  _ let  _ me fuck you? No, princess, you don’t  _ let  _ me do anything. I decide.” He gets closer and grabs your face, thumb right under your lower lip. “Understand?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper, reaching up to his wrist and pulling his thumb into your mouth.

“Naughty girl,” he whispers, “looks like you’re gonna need a good fucking tonight, too, won’t you?”

That weekend, you bring your overnight bag to Ron’s house. The whole way there from the office, Dean had teased you under your skirt, delving his fingers into your folds.

“My dirty girl didn’t wear any panties today, hm?” He had asked you while teasing your clit lightly. Somehow, he had timed the drive perfectly to get you right up to your edge before pulling into Ron’s driveway.

You pout when you realize he’s going to leave you hanging for now, but catch his wrist and pull his hand to your mouth, sucking his fingers clean.

“You are an insatiable little slut,” he whispers, “so good for me.”

You let his fingers out with a soft pop and adjust your skirt before getting out of the car. Dean goes to the trunk and pulls out your bag and his before heading to the door. Ron’s waiting for you, holding his dog in his arms.

“Finally! I’m late now. Here is the most important thing to me in the world,” he tells you as he hands Kosher over to you, “I will make your life a living hell if anything happens to him.”

“I’ll take very good care of him,” you assure Ron as you pet the dog, “don’t worry. Go get on your flight.”

“Dean, no parties,” he says as he rushes out the door.

You’re still cooing at the dog when the door shuts. Dean looks at you expectantly, but you don’t take your attention off the dog.

“Look at you,” you tell him, “such a cute little puppy, you’re such a good boy, Kosher.”

“Princess?”

“Yes?”

He clears his throat, “are you going to put the dog in his room or…?”

You smile up at him, “are you jealous, daddy?”

“Are you looking to get that smart mouth of yours fucked, sugar?”

“Maybe I am,” you tell him. “Let me put the dog in his room, I’ll meet you in the office.”

“Good girl,” he tells you, pulling you in for a kiss before heading in another direction.

You walk up stairs to the room with a doggy gate up. You set him in the room and double check his water level. “Alright, buddy, I’ll see you later. Be good.”

You practically run back down and head to the office, your heels clicking on the floor of the hallway. Dean had left the door cracked and you know exactly what he has in mind. You knock a knuckle on the door.

“Mr. Karny?” You walk into the room with a shy smile.

“Hello, princess.” He crooks a finger to you, “c’mere.”

You cross the room and stand in front of the desk, waiting for your next instruction.

“I’m going to start with you on your knees, I wanna feel your mouth,” he tells you, pushing his chair back and spreading his legs so you can kneel between them. You find your way there and quickly undo his pants.

“Already hard?” you whimper, “fuck…”

“That’s what you do to me, princess,” he tells you, “seeing you be a little slut does this to me.”

You lean forward and lick a stripe on the underside of his shaft, dragging your tongue slowly before teasing the tip and finally wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. You tease your tongue on him before taking more of his length in.

“That’s it, sugar,” he sighs out, “god, I love how you feel around me.”

You continue to bob your head over him and his hand goes to your hair, threading his fingers in there. He lets out a low groan as you use your hand to make up for the part that you can’t take into your mouth. He tugs on your hair slightly and groans again.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this.” He pulls you off of his cock and grins at you, “I wanna fuck you on that couch out there.”

You nod quickly at him, “how do you want me, daddy?”

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

He stands, shoving himself back into his pants and pushes you along, giving a couple of small smacks to your ass as you walk. When you get to the living room, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest and he kisses at your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin.

“I want you to strip,” he whispers into your ear, biting your earlobe, “keep your heels on, and bend over the arm of the couch. Understand?”

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He smacks your ass one more time and steps back, taking off his coat and rolling up the sleeves off his dress shirt. While you drop your clothes to the side, he undoes his tie and pulls it from his neck. You lean over the arm of the couch, spreading your legs apart. “Hands behind your back, princess.”

You listen to his demand, and you can feel his tie being wrapped around your wrists. You hum in appreciation, excited to see where this leads.

“Mmm, you look so good spread out like this for me, princess. Your dripping cunt on display, you  _ need  _ my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy, I need your cock in me. Please.”

“Good girl.” He teases his cock against your entrance slowly. “Look at you squirming for it. Say it one more time.”

“Please fuck me, please. I need you to fill me up,” you whine, wiggling your hips slightly.

He slides right into you, filling you to his hilt. He grips onto your hips with enough strength to bruise your skin there. He leans over and you can feel him still fully clothed against your bare skin and it turns you on even more, trying to grind your hips back against him, but find it to be almost impossible with his grip on you.

Only moments later, you can feel yourself getting close to your climax, your walls start to clench and spasm around his length and you let out whimpers and whine his name.

“You’re so fucking hot, princess, those moans sound so good. All for daddy, hm?”

“Yes, daddy, please, I’m so, so, so close.”

His hand moves between your legs, rubbing at your clit quickly, a little sloppily. As soon as you hit the edge, the waves crash through you, clenching around Dean more and more. He continues to thrust and rub at your clit while you ride it out. His thrusts begin to become erratic.

“Dean, careful, this couch costs at least twenty thousand dollars,” you pant out, “don’t ruin it.”

“Mmm, guess I’ll just have to come inside you, won’t I? And you’ll have to keep it in that sweet little cunt, like daddy’s good little bitch.”

You gasp at the new name, feeling a new wave of arousal through you, “y-yes, daddy, fuck!”

He hits his orgasm then, spilling into you and filling you with his release, stuttering his hips and collapsing over you. He gives sloppy kisses to your neck and shoulders before pulling out of you and untying your wrists.

“Let me help you to the shower,” he whispers, helping you stand up and placing kisses on your skin.

“Will you be joining me?”

He chuckles, “yes, anything for you, princess.”


	12. Chapter 12

You jump, pulling the covers around you tighter with every clap of thunder. It shakes the walls to your apartment and rattles you to your core. Reading won’t even distract you; you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again. It’s too late into the night to call your mother or Dean, they’d both be asleep at this hour.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the next boom and can feel tears start to form. Wiping away the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, you take deep breaths. Whoever had told you that the storms wouldn’t be bad in LA was a straight liar. 

The next noise you hear is a loud one, but it’s not thunder. Someone is banging on your door. You ignore it for a moment, but the banging gets more frenzied, so you decide to check the peephole in the door.

Dean stands there, soaked completely. He hits his open palm to the door again and again. Quickly, you unlock it and throw it open for him.

“Hey, princess.”

“What are you… Get inside.” Another clap of thunder causes you to jump, letting out a small yelp. Dean gets inside and locks the door back up before turning to you again. “Why are you here?”

“I know you hate storms,” he tells you and breezes past you to your linen closet in the hallway, grabbing a couple extra towels. “I had this big romantic idea to come save you, but I guess you didn’t hear me knocking.”

You tune the rest of his one-sided conversation out and stare at him.  _ You love him. You are so in love with Dean Karny. _

“Shit, I’m gonna get your apartment wet, did I leave any clothes here?”

You smile and nod, walking towards your bedroom and pulling out a pair of sweats he had left and your Oakland hoodie. He strips down and you take the clothes to the dryer, still feeling like you’re walking on air. When you walk back in, he’s dressed again, though his hair is still damp.

“Are you okay?” He smiles softly at you.

You nod and practically run into his arms. “Thank you for coming over, baby, I really needed you.”

“I know, I should have been here sooner though.” He holds you tight, pressing kisses on your head and rubbing your back. The next loud boom only scares you a little, feeling safe in his arms.

_ You love him _ .

“Wanna get into bed? Or watch TV?” He continues to rub circles into your back and you know that you might be able to sleep if he continues, but decide against it.

“Let’s watch some TV. Or a movie.” He leads you back to your living room and heads to the VHS collection. Admittedly, you didn’t have too many, so you know it won’t take him long, but you grab a blanket and get settled on the couch.

“Robin Hood?” He turns with the Disney movie in his hand, an eyebrow raised at you.

“It’s a good movie,” you shrug a shoulder, “don’t judge me.”

He just chuckles and puts it in, coming back to the couch and pulling you close. You adjust yourself to be cuddled into his side, resting your head on his chest while Robin Hood and Little John have their adventures.

Some time passes, and you feel your body being lifted from the couch while the familiar buzzing of an ended tape is playing. You let out a soft groan as you start to wake up.

“Sh, sugar, you can sleep.” Dean lays you down on your bed and starts to walk away, and you sleepily reach for him, making him chuckle, “I’ll be right back, princess.”

It’s only a minute later that he comes back with the blanket from the couch and throws it over you before climbing underneath it himself, pulling you against his chest and kissing your forehead.

You almost tell him, but you decide that tonight’s not the time to say it. Instead of the L-word, you nuzzle into his chest and sigh out, “thank you for being here.”

“Always,” he whispers back. You don’t hear anymore thunder.

  
  
  


“Hey, can you pass me that file, doll?”

Dean had to take his work home this weekend, and you knew he had been stressed about it. He’s sitting on the couch next to you as you read, files and pages spread out everywhere across the living room. Joe was having the same problem, but kept it in the spare room.

“Do you want a break?” You ask him as you hold it out. “You look tired, baby.”

He shakes his head, “I gotta finish this before tomorrow morning.”

You kiss his cheek and get up, “I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t even look up, and you head to the kitchen to make him a coffee. You hadn’t seen him this tired because of work before.

Humming to yourself, you begin the coffee maker and turn to a cabinet to grab Dean’s mug. Without thinking, you set it down on the counter and turn to the fridge to get his creamer. You turn back around to face the counter and nudge the mug in the turn. It falls onto your foot, bouncing off, and then hits the ground, chipping the handle.

“Ow! Shit!”

You hear footsteps coming into the kitchen and you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Quickly, you swoop up the mug and move it back to the counter and look for the broom.

“You okay, sugar?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, sweeping up the small bits from the handle. “Just dropped your mug. I’m sorry.”

“My mug?”

“I was going to make you coffee,” you shake your head, feeling the shakiness in your voice as you try to calm down. Rationally, you know Dean’s not mad, but the shock of the mug dropping had you feeling shaken. “You looked like you needed a pick me up, but I guess I fucked that surprise up, huh?”

Dean crosses to you, reaching for the broom and setting aside, pulling you into an embrace, rubbing circles into your back. “You are so good to me.”

You’re surprised at how soft his voice has become, you’re not sure how to respond. Instead, you just wrap your arms around him, too, and inhale his scent.

“You know, maybe I should take a break. Want to watch some TV with me? Cuddle on the couch?” He pulls away to look into your eyes, “just for a little bit?”

“Of course, baby,” you lean forward to kiss him briefly. 

  
  


The next day, you collapse onto the bed, curling onto your side and squeezing your eyes shut. Your head is pounding, you can barely focus on thinking, let alone all the work you had done that day, dealing with some less than happy investors over the phone. Blindly reaching around, you move a pillow over your head to block out some light.

“Alright there, doll?” Your boyfriend’s voice echoes in your pounding head, making you grimace from underneath the pillow.

“Headache,” you mumble.

Dean’s weight makes the bed dip as he sits next to you, rubbing your back, “can I do anything to help?”

“No. Well,” you move the pillow away and look behind your shoulder, “some Tylenol and water.”

He leans down to press a kiss to your temple before he gets up and exits the room. He’s only gone for a moment before he’s back with what you asked for. 

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper as you sit up to take the water.

“Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll work on some stuff in the living room and can wake you up in about an hour?”

“Would you? That would be great,” you smile softly and reach out to cup his cheek before kissing him. “Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for you, princess.”

As he walks out of the room and takes the cup with him, you get comfortable under the sheets. It’s easy to fall asleep once you feel the aspirin kicking in.

You feel lips press soft kisses onto your forehead, cheeks, nose, and finally your lips. Fluttering your eyes open and letting out a soft sigh, you wake up to Dean kneeling next to the bed and smiling at you. He drags the back of his knuckles across your cheekbone.

“How are you feeling, princess?”

You lean your face into his touch, “a little bit better.”

“I have something that might make you feel back at one hundred percent.” He stands, holding out his hand for you to take. “C’mon.”

You slowly stand up, taking his hand as he leads you to the guest bathroom. There’s a large bathtub, where you can still see some steam rising from the water. There are a few candles lit and the overhead lights are off, making it much easier for your head to take.

“Dean…”

He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder from behind you. “Yes?”

“You are the sweetest,” you place your hands over his, “best boyfriend ever.”

“You’re the best girlfriend ever,” he mumbles into your ear, “you deserve to relax. C’mon, I can join you, if you want.”

“Please do.”

You feel his arms let go of you, and while you automatically miss them, you know you’ll feel them around you again soon. You strip down, kicking your clothes into a pile near the door. Dean does the same, and you pull your hair away from your neck, putting it up with a scrunchie so it will be out of the way of the water. He climbs into the tub first and lets out a sigh at the warm contact of the water. He offers a hand for you to hold as you climb in after him, settling between his legs and leaning back on to chest.

“This feels so good,” you let out a soft sigh and tip your head back a little to look at him. You bring your fingers up to trace his jawline. His eyes flutter closed and you continue to trace his face with feather like touches, from his jaw to his cheekbones, to his lips.

“What are you doing?” He places a kiss on your fingertips.

“Making sure you’re real,” you whisper, hearing the vulnerability in your voice, “that this isn’t just one big joke.”

His eyes open and he frowns down at you, “what do you mean?”

“Sometimes I feel like you’re just a dream.” You move your hand through his hair and then rest it, cupping the base of his neck. “You’re too good to be true.”

Dean’s gaze softens and a smile spreads across his face. “You’re going to make me blush. I can assure you I’m real, princess.”

“You always call me princess. Does that mean you’re my prince, baby?”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your head, “maybe. But don’t call me that.”

“Oh, right. You like it when I call you ‘daddy’ more.”

“You’re asking for trouble there.” He pulls you tighter against him, leaning down to nuzzle his face to your neck.

“I know,” you reply softly and lace your fingers through his. Again, you almost tell him your feelings, but bite your lip as you think. Would he feel the same? If he doesn’t, do you want to ruin the mood by saying it? Instead, you squeeze his hand. “Thank you for this, Dean, I really needed it.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

  
  


“You two got any plans tonight?”

You look down from your book to Dean’s head, resting on your lap. He frowns before sitting up and looking over at Joe. 

“I don’t think we do, what’s up?”

Joe sits on one of the armchairs in the living room and looks at the two of you with a smile, and you know he wants something. Last time he looked like this, he had begged you to come on a double date with him and Sydney. It hadn’t ended well. She spent the night making awful, passive aggressive comments about Dean. But, it was her birthday, so you didn’t want to make a scene.

“Syd has a really big art gallery showing tonight; her boss is expecting a big turn out...but no one has RSVP’d. She’s getting Q and Rosanna to go, and they’re bringing Kyle and Scott. Charlie’s gonna be there, too. So…” He holds his hands out. “What do you say?”

Dean lets out a sigh, “I’ll go for you, man, but I really don’t want to.”

“It means a lot, Dean. So can I tell her to add two more…?”

You look at your boyfriend, gauging his mood, before looking back to Joe. “Yeah. We’ll be there.”

“Thank you! You guys are great,” he speaks while already walking out of the room. 

“Don’t forget we still need to talk about…” Dean shakes his head, obviously upset with his friend. You watch as he picks up the report he had been studying before resting on you. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are glued to the paper.

“Baby?”

“What’s up, princess?” He doesn’t look to you. You move closer and reach to turn his face towards you. A very small smile begins to spread across his lips.

“Do you really want to go? I can pretend to get sick and then you can take care of me instead.”

He chuckles softly, “no, it’ll be good. I can talk to Joe at the gallery while Syd’s doing something else. Plus...I get to see you all dressed up with that lipstick I like.”

“You’re right,” you tease, “I’ll even wear something fun underneath.”

“Now you’re talking. C’mere, give me a kiss.” 

Happily, you lean forward and kiss him, holding his face between your hands. When you break away, he leans forward and kisses your nose, then kisses you again. You let go of him and pick your book back up, hoping to get a good chunk knocked out before you leave for the gallery that night.

Luckily, you are able to and still get back to your apartment on time to get ready in some of Dean’s favorite things. When you walk out of the bedroom with your dress, he shakes his head and leads you back into the room.

“You look so fucking good like this, I need to enjoy it alone before we show you off to everyone else, princess.”

“Dean,” you giggle, pushing him softly. “We’re going to be late. I  _ promise _ you can enjoy this alone later.” He gives you a pout and you shake your head. “Do I ever break promises to you?”

“No, I guess you’re right. C’mon. We’ll go now and we can leave a little early.”

The drive to gallery space isn’t very long, but you know he’s not looking forward to being there, even for a minute. You reach over to hold his hand while he drives, and he squeezes softly. 

“You’re really a good friend to Joe, Dean,” you tell him, “I know you don’t exactly get along with Syd.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs, “yeah, Joe was my best friend in high school. Still is.” He looks to you with a small smile for a moment before back to the road, “besides you, of course.”

“You’re mine, too,” you tell him softly.

The two of you pull into the valet line and get out of the car. Dean leads you inside and you look around to the abstract installations. TV screens, mirrors, speakers, lights… it was all a little much. Syd’s boss was known for being extra experimental in his work, so it didn’t surprise you.

“Hey, there’s Joe,” he tells you, “can you give me a minute, princess?”

“Of course, I see Q and Rosanna over there, I’ll talk to them.”

He kisses your temple and walks over to wear Joe stands. You head over to the girls and greet them with a smile. You make sure to keep your boyfriend in your peripherals while you chat.

“We were thinking about going out tomorrow,” Rosanna tells you.

“Just you two?”

“Syd’s invited,” Q takes a drag of the cigarette in her hand. “I thought she may have said something to you since you know… You spend a lot of time at her house.”

“You’d think,” you laugh. “No, she seems to avoid me.”

“It’s not you, she just really doesn’t like Dean.”

Rosanna nods, “she thinks you can do better. I don’t really understand why she hates him so much.”

“Cause he’s Mean Dean.”

“Hey, don’t call him that.” You frown at the girls, “he really hates it.”

“Sorry,” Q mutters. “Force of habit.”

“Anyway, you wanna come out tomorrow?”

You shrug, “maybe. I have dinner plans with my boyfriend, but afterwards, I should be free. What time were you guys thinking?”

“Not till later, ten, maybe?”

You see it happen behind Rosanna’s head. Dean talking to Joe normally, but Joe yelling at him, you can’t quite hear him, but you can see that he’s angry about something. He turns and walks across the room to one of the installations that Syd is standing by. The look on Dean’s face breaks your heart and you make up an excuse and tell the girls to call you tomorrow.

“Hey,” you say as you get closer, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“I… It doesn’t matter. I was just talking about some business stuff.”

You frown, “Dean, I saw him yell at you. Are you sure it’s just business?”

“Hm?” He looks to you, his gaze softening when he looks into your eyes. “Yeah. It’s fine, princess.”

“Cause, you know, I’d fight him for you,” you tease, wrapping your arms around Dean’s midsection. “Bet I could take him easy.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you in return. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm, just gotta knock him off balance. He’s all height, if I kick the back of his knees, he’ll topple over.”

“I love you,” he says with a smile. You raise your eyebrows as the words sink in and he realizes what he said. “Shit… I mean, I do, but I didn’t mean to say… Fuck. I’m—“

“Dean, I love you, too.”

He lets out a soft sigh, leaning forward and kissing you, “good, I’m not sure how much longer I could have kept that in.”

You look around and take his hand, leading him to a quieter corner. “When did you know?”

“You want the exact moment?” He waits for you to nod and sucks a breath in. “Couple weeks ago. You dropped my mug.”

“That’s when you realized?!” You laugh, “why?”

“You were trying to make me feel less stressed. It was nice, sweet. I knew I loved you then.” He smiles. “Why don’t we get out of here? You can tell me when you fell in love with me. I’m sure it was when you saw me that first time, wasn’t it?”

You laugh, “no, not that first time.”

He begins to lead you to the car, walking right past Syd and Joe. You lock eyes with the girl, and you can see how angry she is as you walk. You give her a small smile and shout out a “great job” in her direction. Her jaw clenches and Joe looks over to Dean with a confused look. Your boyfriend sighs and stops.

“I gotta tell them something. Wait here.”

You frown, but let go of his hand as walks over. You watch as, again, Joe gets angry at him. Normally, you would listen and stay put, but the way Syd was reacting, you marched forward and slipped your arm around Dean’s waist.

“We  _ have _ to go,” you tell them, “the gallery is lovely, Syd. Thank you for inviting us.”

You steer Dean away from them and lead him out the door.

“Thank you for that, princess.” He shakes his head. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

“I would love that,” you tell him softly.

He smiles, “you’re the best.”

When you’re on the freeway, you turn to face him. “I knew I was in love when you came to save me from the storm that night. You were just… Fuck, Dean, you were so sweet and every nice thing you’ve done for me kind of all came together and I knew. And, of course, every single naughty thing, too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “don’t start with that, I’ll have to pull over and we won’t make it to your place.”

“Can’t handle it, daddy?”

He lets out a stuttered breath, “you’re on thin ice.”

You giggle and turn the radio up as he heads back to your apartment. When you get to the parking lot, you notice he doesn’t immediately turn off the car.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Remember the other day in the bath, you were saying I was a dream?”

“Alright.” Your cheeks begin to warm with embarrassment, looking away. “We don’t have to talk about that again.”

“Sometimes,” he tells you, “you make me feel the same way. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“You think  _ I’m  _ a dream?”

He smirks, and you know he’s done being vulnerable and sweet, “oh, of course, sugar. Especially when you’re my sweet girl, when I get to feel your tight little cunt around my cock. Or when you wrap those pretty little lips around my fingers, tasting yourself and when you fuckin’ moan? Fuck, that’s a dream.”

“Are you going to shut the car off and come fuck me now? Or are we just going to sit here?”

Dean laughs, leaning forward for a kiss and pulling you close. “I love you. Let’s go upstairs.”

“Oh, so we’re not fucking,” you tease him as he turns off the car, “we’re going to  _ make love _ ?”

Again, he laughs and shakes his head, “whatever you want, princess.”


	13. Chapter 13

For weeks, all the boys had been talking about around the office was Congenco. Joe was so sure that this would be a good move for the BBC. Buying out a bankrupt company to use the assets to invest more in gold. While it didn’t make much sense to you, Dean told you it would be great for them, so you gave your support.

“Hey,” Joe stops at your desk one morning, “can you book the airfare and reserve the hotel rooms?”

You frown, “airfare?”

“Yeah, the boys and I have to go to Congenco’s board meeting.”

“And...where is it?” You feel embarrassed, but you hadn’t heard any plans of the boys traveling anywhere before just now. Joe doesn’t seem to pay any attention to your tone.

“Chicago. And maybe we should save on rooms, get a couple so we can double up.”

You write down the information he gives you on a small notepad, making sure you’ve got each boy’s full name and the BBC credit card’s number. As he walks away, you frown down at Dean’s name.

The dates they’d be out of town fell on a small anniversary, and you’d been hoping to celebrate with him, just the two of you. You wonder if he realizes what dates he’d be gone, and you sigh as you begin to make the calls. The boys would only be gone for, at most, four or five days, so you start with the airlines, booking them on a morning flight on the way out, and another morning flight on the way back. Wednesday through Saturday morning. You’re calling the hotels when Dean walks into the office and straight to your desk, leaning against it while he waits for you to finish your conversation.

“The reservation will be under Joe Hunt; that’s hotel, uniform, November, tango.”

Dean smirks down at you, looking you up and down. You have to ignore him as you read off the card number, trying not to read into the look he’s giving you and also trying not to hang up the phone and jump over the desk to kiss him. He’s wearing that dumb light blue polo again, he knows what it does to you.

“Okay, thank you,” you finally hang up and narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, “you’re leaving me all alone?”

“Sadly, yes. I actually needed to talk to you about it.” He nods his head towards his office, and you get up, following him there. Getting comfortable in one of the chairs across the desk, you can feel your heartbeat pick up. He sits next to you rather than across, and he smiles. “I was thinking about those days and how you’ll have to go back and forth to the office and your apartment. I was hoping that you’d stay at my place and let me get you a car service.”

“Dean, that’s far too much,” you shake your head, “I’ll be fine at my place.”

He frowns, “but what if you’re not?”

“I have been. I’ve never gotten hurt—“

“So far.” He leans a little closer and takes your hand, “please? Just for my peace of mind.”

“Dean—“

He speaks your name clearly, and you know that he’s worried; he’s only said your name a small handful of times since you’ve met. Taking a second to look into his eyes, you can tell something’s wrong.

You furrow your brow, “if it really makes you happy, I’ll stay at your place. But I can drive your car, or take the bus or something. I’m not making you get a car service.”

“Deal,” he sighs, then continues, “I also realize it’ll be four months since we got together by then, and… I’m sorry I’m missing that day.”

Your heart soars as he remembers, “it’s okay, I know this is important.”

“Mm, not as important as you,” he squeezes your hand. “I was thinking about what to get you—“

“No presents,” you insist.

“I was thinking about what to get you to wear for me later that day,” he corrects with a smirk and you laugh. “But I don’t think I’ll have enough time to go to the store. So, I’ve decided I’m going to leave that up to you. I’ll call you every night from the hotel, and you can describe what you bought to me.”

You bite your lip and have to cross your legs a little tighter. “Oh, can I?”

“Mhm,” he nods, licking his lips, “and then  _ maybe _ , if you’re really good and I’m feeling generous enough, I can talk you through touching yourself. But you know it won’t be nearly as good as when I’m there, will it?”

“No, daddy,” you whimper.

“Smart girl. Now, get back to work.”

With a pout, you stand and make your way back to your desk, already thinking about the options of lingerie you would love to tease him with. For the next few days, you think about all of the ways you know would rile him up.

The day before he leaves, you spend the night at his house, making damn sure he couldn’t forget you. That morning, you feel sad, empty now that he’ll be leaving you. It’s the longest you two would go without seeing each other.

“I have to go, princess, I can hear the other guys outside. I will call you as  _ soon _ as I get to the hotel, okay?”

“One more kiss,” you tell him, grabbing at his shirt collar and pulling him down to you again. His hands squeeze your waist and he lets out a sigh against your lips.

“I love you,” he whispers, “be good while I’m gone.”

“I love you, too. Safe travels.”

  
  


You rush into the bedroom, trying to grab the phone before it went to the machine. You had just come home from buying your special present for Dean, and you were hoping that it’s him calling now. The past couple days have been lonely, but you’re excited to talk now.

“Hello?” You manage to grab the phone before the last ring.

“Hey, princess,” Dean’s voice is on the other side of the line.

“Hi, baby,” you can’t keep the smile from your face, “how are you?”

“Missing you.”

You hum as you sit on the edge of the bed, “well, you get to see me tomorrow. And I have that present…”

“Do you now?”

You reach into the first bag, pulling out the corset top. “Yes, daddy, it’s  _ really  _ pretty. All lacy and white. I got a pretty good deal on it, so I got a second present too.”

“Mm, and what’s that?”

“Let me get it out,” you tell him as you reach into the second bag, pulling out the vibrator you bought with the leftover cash. You had been so excited to see how strong it was, that you opened the packaging and put the batteries in before you left the parking lot. Holding it up near the phone’s receiver, you turn it on to the middle setting.

“Is that…” Dean sucks in a breath, and his voice gets lower, “did you buy a vibrator?”

“I did, daddy. I was thinking about how much I missed you and your tongue and your fingers and especially how much I miss your cock stretching me out,” you tell him as you switch it off, “I wish you were home now to use it on me.”

“Fuck, princess,” he rasps, “I wish I was there, too. I can’t wait to see how you look with your wrists tied up with the toy on your clit. Can you picture it now?”

“Daddy, you’re going to make me wet again,” you whimper, “I’ve been good so far but you’re making it so hard, calling me every night and leaving those dirty messages on the machine at work…”

“You know you can’t finger yourself without permission,” he tells you with a warning in his voice, “stay good for me one more night.”

An idea forms in your head and you smirk to yourself, “of course, daddy, I will.”

“Good girl. I’ll call you later, sugar, but just know there might be a surprise for you soon.”

“Dean, I said no gifts!”

He laughs, “I couldn’t resist. Good night, princess.”

“Good night, baby,” you sigh out. You hang the phone in the cradle and smile to yourself. You’re sure if he finds out, you’d still get punished… But it’s too tempting. Knowing that Syd had an art show and plans with Q and Rosanna after, you clear the bed and strip down, throwing your clothes into a pile near the closet.

You lay on your back, slipping your eyes shut as you think about Dean. His mouth on your neck, his hands on your sides, gripping you tight before he would move them to your nipples. You use your fingers to tease at your breasts, your breath hitching in your throat as you continue to pinch and flick at your hardened nipples. Imagining what Dean would do next, you reach for the vibrator and turn it to the lowest setting, swirling it around the soft flesh of your breasts. Slowly, you move it down your stomach, teasing it along your hips before tracing it on your inner thighs.

“Dean,” you sigh out as you continue to tease yourself until you press the toy against your slick heat. Dragging it back and forth a few times, you finally press it against your clit and turn it up to the next setting. Your back arches at the new feeling and you press down harder. “Fuck, yes.”

Again, you turn the setting up again and use your free hand to continue to pinch at your nipples. After you feel your climax start to build, you move the toy away from your clit, you want to drag this out a little longer.

You know you’ll probably soak through the sheets if you can get much wetter, and you dip the vibrator into your hole. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. You turn it up once more and begin to fuck yourself with the toy. You start slowly, but soon you’re pumping the toy in and out of you with rushed, violent thrusts.

“Fuck, daddy, feels so good,” you pant out as you feel the sweat building up along your body, thinking about the way he’d bite your neck, “Dean…”

“Wow, princess, thought you were going to be good,” his voice is in the room with you. Your eyes shoot open and you see Dean standing in the doorway, arms crossed against his chest. You fumble with the settings and turn off the buzzing toy. Your mouth hangs open, still in shock as the fact that he really is there hits you.

“Dean, what are you… How are you here?”

He crosses the room, undoing the knot in his tie, “well you were being such a good girl, thought I’d surprise you by coming home early. Now I know I can’t leave my dirty slut alone for so long.”

“I am being good, daddy,” you protest as he comes closer to the bed, “you specifically told me not to finger myself!”

He smirks and holds his tie out. You know exactly what he means, so you put your hands to the headboard and allow him to tie you there. As he ties you, he lets out a sigh, “fuckin’ smartass. You should know better than this.”

“I’m sorry, daddy, I just missed you so—“

Dean cuts you off with a rough kiss, the force behind it almost enough to bruise your lips. When he pulls away, he looks down into your eyes and you swear you see a softness in his green eyes before he pulls away to quickly unbutton his shirt and strip down to his briefs. You tug on the restraint a little to test its strength and watch him move around to climb onto the bed, picking up your toy.

“You wanted to use this so bad?” He weighs it in his hand before switching it on, “guess we’ll have to use it, won’t we, whore?”

“Please, daddy, I need you.”

He hums and turns the vibrator to the highest setting before pressing it to your clit. Your back arches off the bed and you can barely keep your moans quiet as he works it over you.

Over and over, he brings you right up to the edge and then backs off. He has you dripping into the bed and begging him with tears starting to fall out of your eyes. Dean watches you with his pupils blown and glazed over.

“Please, daddy, please let me come,” you whine.

“Oh, you want to come?” He pulls it away from you once again. “I had a plan to make you feel  _ so fuckin’ good _ , sugar, but that was when you were being daddy’s good little girl. But now… Oh, princess, you’re in so much trouble.”

“Please, I was thinking about you the whole time, daddy,  _ please _ , I need to come.”

“You were thinking about me? Give me more details.”

You moan out as he uses his fingers to gently rub circles on your clit instead of the vibrator. “I was thinking about h-how you tease me… Lips on my neck and fingers on my tits, on my thighs… Love when you get me worked up…”

“Yeah? Tell me what else, sugar,” he rasps, pressing slightly harder.

“Love the way you finger fuck me, love when you eat my pussy,” you continue, “fuck, I really love when you fuck me with that thick cock and come inside me, when it drips down my thighs.”

“Fuck,” he groans, moving his hand away and stands to take his underwear off, “you really are a nasty, needy slut, aren’t you?”

“Daddy’s whore,” you whimper, trying to wriggle around to get some friction, “I  _ need  _ your cock, daddy, please fuck me.”

He wastes no more time in positioning between your legs and lining himself up. He pushes into you, filling you up, and letting out a moan.

“Missed feeling your tight cunt around me,” he tells you, thrusting harder and faster into you, making the sloppy wet noises from between your legs much more prominent. “You hear that, princess? Hear how fucking drenched you are? That’s from me, isn’t it?”

You nod vigorously, “mhmm, all for you, only you.”

“No one else can get you this fuckin’ sloppy, can they? That’ll remind you not to touch yourself,” he tells you with a particularly hard thrust, “you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy, all yours,” you can feel your voice going as you practically let out a sob, “please, I’m so close…”

“Come for me, sugar.”

You almost black out as you finally let yourself feel the pleasure course through you. You know you’re shouting and moaning his name, but the only thing you feel as your orgasm comes to an end is Dean’s release, spilling into you.

He presses kisses all over you as he begins to sit up.

“What a sight,” he whispers before untying your wrists. “Did I hurt you at all, princess?”

“No,” you pant out, “but I am exhausted.”

“You’re incredible,” he mutters as he takes your hands in his and places kisses on your red wrists. You hiss at the sting, and he pulls away. “Let me clean you up.”

As the two of you lay cuddled together after being cleaned up, you let out a sigh. He rubs a hand on your back.

“I gotta keep a closer eye on you,” he teases, “make sure you listen to me.”

You giggle and hide your face further into his chest. “Well, it  _ is _ only when you’re not around that I don’t listen.”

“Let’s fix that then.”

You can hear his heart pick up a little and know he’s trying to keep his cool. “How do you think we should?”

“Move in with me,” he says quietly.

“Really?” You tilt your head to look up at him, “are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Sugar, I love you and I get worried sometimes with you all the way out in the Valley. I also really love getting to wake up next to you.”

“I would love to move in with you, Dean.” You pull him into a kiss and smile against him.

He rolls away to grab something from his nightstand, “so glad you said yes. Cause I wouldn’t know what to do with this spare key otherwise.”

He presses it into your hand and you look down to see the key on a chain with a cute charm. It was a golden ‘D’ and it brings another smile to your face.

“You… You’re a dork, Dean.”

He rolls his eyes, “oh hush.”

“I love you,” you kiss him once more before putting the keys on his other nightstand. Your new nightstand.


	14. Chapter 14

With a frustrated sigh, you hang up the phone to the cradle on your desk. You had decided, a few days ago, to let your mom know that you would be moving in with Dean, and she had taken the news...not so great. Neither she or your father had met him yet, and she was afraid you were moving too fast. And now she was inviting you and Dean to dinner. With your father joining.

You couldn’t say no.

Now, it was just going to be a struggle getting Dean to agree. He had never expressed interest in meeting them, and you were nervous that maybe he wouldn’t get along with them. Pushing your chair back from the desk, you make your way to Dean’s office before you lose your nerve.

His door is open, and he looks like he’s studying some papers in front of him. You knock your knuckles on the door and he looks up, smiling at you.

“Hey, princess! Is it time for lunch already?”

“No,” you step in and shut the door. “I actually just wanted to talk to you, daddy.”

Dean raises an eyebrow as you walk forward and take a seat across his desk. “Oh? About what?”

“Have I reminded you how much I love you, daddy?”

His eyes narrow. “What are you after?”

“I can’t just tell you how much I love you?” You bite your lip, feeling the anxiety creep up. Was it worth it?

“I can tell that’s not it, sugar, so why don’t you tell me what’s really on your mind?”

“My mom called,” you finally give in, “she’s slightly upset that I’m moving in with a guy she hasn’t met yet. So she invited us to dinner. Along with my dad. And I’ve already said yes.”

He frowns, “that all? I can set some reservations up at Spago’s for the four of us.”

“No, she, uh, wants us to go visit. At her house. It’s a little bit of a drive, and I know you’re busy, baby, but—“

“Is this important to you?” He stands from his desk to cross around and sit in the chair next to you. When you nod, he smiles, taking your hand. “Then it’s important to me. Anything for you, princess.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “good. It’s tomorrow night.”

“We can leave right after work if you want to, I can grab a bottle of wine or flowers.” He pulls your hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. “Red or white?”

The next day, you sit in Dean’s car as you navigate him through the neighborhood and point out your old house. Your dad’s car is parked outside and you can feel the panic setting in.

“We should go,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I’ll call them and tell them I got food poisoning from lunch or something.”

“We’re already here,” Dean tells you quietly, turning to face you slightly. “I’ll be on my best behavior, sugar, don’t worry.”

“I know you will be,” you look to him, “I just… My dad’s never met any of my friends, let alone boyfriends. My mom hasn’t approved of any of my boyfriends. She thinks no one’s good enough.”

“Hey,” he laughs softly and brushes some hair out of your face, “if she had approved of the old boyfriends, do you think I would be here with you right now?”

“Dean.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but the song on the radio changes, and a smile spreads across his face instead. Before you can tell him not to, he begins to sing along, “moving forward using all my breath, making love to you was never second best.”

“You’re an idiot,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes. He continues on to the chorus and taps his cheek. You know if he doesn’t get what he wants, he will continue with the song. Leaning closer, you press your lips to his cheek and sit back again. Before he can ask for anything else, you turn the volume down a little. “I’m seriously nervous, though.”

“I’ll stop the world and melt with you,” he mumbles along and presses a kiss onto your lips. “Even if it means having to drag you out of this car. C’mon, let’s go in.”

“No, we should leave.”

Dean sighs, “do you think they won’t like me? Cause all you should worry about is them liking me more than they like you.”

“Fuck.”

“That was a joke,” he hurriedly assures you, “there’s no way that would ever happen. No one would ever like me more than they like you.”

“I like you more,” you tell him, gripping his hand.

“Good, yours is the only opinion that matters to me.” He strokes his thumb across your hand. “Now, please, sugar, I am starving. Let’s go inside.”

“Okay.”

With a big smile spreading across his lips, he shuts the car off and opens the door. You take a moment, picking up your purse and the bottle of wine that had been resting by your feet. Before you could open the door, Dean is there, doing it for you. He helps you out and closes the door for you. As the two of you walk from the curb to the front door, he takes the wine from you in one hand and holds your now free hand with his other. 

It’s halfway through dinner before you realize you had nothing to worry about. Dean is a natural charmer, and doubly so on your mother. You’ve never seen her so mesmerized by someone. The only bit of a problem you had run into was when your dad found out that Dean was only twenty five. 

“You’re the COO of a financial company...but you’re only twenty?”

“Twenty five, dad,” you correct.

“That’s not the point,” your dad waves a hand, “how old is the CEO?”

“Twenty four, sir.”

He shakes his head at Dean, “there’s no way you boys have enough of a handle on business to run a whole company.”

“Actually,” you begin to defend Dean from across the table, “the boys just went to Chicago not too long ago, bought out Cogenco.”

“The energy company?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean nods, giving a small, thankful smile towards you.

Your mother clears her throat, “I could use another glass of wine.”

You’re thankful for the interruption; you didn’t need to know exactly where this was going to know it probably wouldn’t have ended well. You reach for the bottle and pass it over to your mom. It’s silent for a moment before your dad starts telling a story.

You groan at the tale of him coming back for your sweet sixteen sophomore year. It was a small party, and you hadn’t remembered a time where he was in your life. There was only one picture of the two of you around the house; your mom had been deeply hurt by his leaving and burned most of the others. When he showed up as you were opening a card from your grandparents, you screamed “intruder”.

“You grew a beard,” you point out, “didn’t really match the daddy and me photo.”

At that, Dean looks to you as if you called his name. It hits you what you’ve said and you have to look down at your food to keep from your parents noticing your blush.

As your parents continue the stories about your childhood, you can feel the blush calm down. Carefully, you make eye contact with Dean across the table and he gives you a smug smirk.

“She still scared of storms?”

Dean raises an eyebrow at your dad and nods slowly, “yeah, but I don’t mind keeping her company through one.”

“Dean’s a knight in shining armor when it comes to that,” you interrupt, “he came over at, what, midnight and made sure I was okay.”

“Really? How long did you stay?”

Your mom is looking directly at him, so you bite your tongue. You’re not sure on your mom’s stance about spending the night. Dean seems calm, he answers quick enough and your mom seems to not mind the answer.

“Until the storm passed and she was calm. We watched a movie or two.”

Soon after, you’re all finished eating and your mom asks your dad for help cleaning up in the kitchen. Dean asks you to show him around the house, and you happily agree. It’s small and it won’t take too long, but you’re glad to have a moment alone.

“Here’s my room. It’s still got some stuff around,” you tell him as you open the door. It happens suddenly; Dean has you pushed against the wall in your childhood bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “Fuck!”

“Shh, princess, we don’t want your parents to hear you. Don’t want them walking in and seeing what I’m about to do to their good little girl.”

“Daddy,” you whimper as his fingers make quick work at the hem of your skirt, pushing it up your thighs.

“Mmm, always sounds so good when you say that, sugar.” His fingers push your panties to the side and begin to rub gently at your folds. “Can’t wait to get you back home to fuck you and make you moan so loud for me.”

“You could fuck me now, on my bed.”

He raises an eyebrow, “oh can I?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, “I need you now, daddy, wanna feel you.”

“Needy little slut,” he mutters as he leans forward, kissing you roughly. “You want me to come inside you, have you hold it in there till we leave? Finger you in the car the whole way back, make sure it’s as deep as it can be? Then when I get you back to your apartment, I can fill you up again. Is that it?”

“Yes, daddy, want that so bad.”

He hums in thought as he circles your clit with his finger, kissing at your neck, and biting light enough to not make a mark. He continues by moving his fingers to your entrance and replace them with his thumb on your clit. When you begin to moan, he moves his mouth over yours again, his free hand pinning your hip against the wall. 

“You’re already close?” He pulls away to look into your eyes, “I can tell.”

“I need to come, daddy, please.”

“Oh, you do?” He pulls his hand away and brings it towards your lips. You don’t hesitate in sucking the taste of yourself off his fingers, leaving a teasing lick as he pulls it away from you again, a smirk spreading across his pink lips. “Well, we better get back out there. Before they start to miss us.”

“Dean,” you pout, “you can’t just leave me hanging. I—“

“That’s no way to talk to your daddy, princess. Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll take care of that desperate little pussy later. But for now,” he points to the door as he speaks, “you’re going to finish this visit with soaked panties.”

“Yes, daddy,” you mumble and straighten out your skirt. You check the mirror over your old vanity to make sure you look put together before you walk back towards the kitchen and eating area. Dean follows right behind you, acting as though nothing ever happened.

Your mom is setting out a pie she had baked earlier while your dad carries out some plates. A good sign. One of your first boyfriends hadn’t even made it to dessert before your mom decided he was no good for you.

The rest of the visit was easy for Dean. He was able to impress your father when the topic turned towards tennis. He complimented your mother’s cooking and told her what a lovely home she has. He was the perfect gentleman. While you were a dripping mess, wishing the two of you were alone so he would drop the act.

Finally, you were headed out the door with a Tupperware full of leftovers each that your mom had insisted you take with you. “They’ll warm up nicely for a work lunch,” she had told you when you told her you didn’t need them. Dean happily accepted them, and you were walking out the door. Your dad walked with you until he reached his car.

“I’ll have to come see one of your tennis matches,” he tells Dean as he turns the key in the lock. 

“Definitely,” Dean nods and looks to you, “you can bring him when you come watch me.”

“I’ll let you know,” you smile at your dad, “maybe Mom would like to come, too.”

“It was good to meet you, sir,” Dean holds out his hand.

Your dad shakes his hand, “you, too. You seem to be good for my daughter.”

“He is,” you tell him, looping your arm through Dean’s. “We really need to be heading back now. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, darling.”

You walk with Dean to the car, where he opens your door again, kissing your head as you duck in. You take his Tupperware and set it with yours on the floor of the car. As soon as he’s in, and the door is shut, you reach over to his lap, rubbing your hand over his crotch.

“Fuck, I need your cock,” you tell him.

His eyes go wide, obviously taken aback by your admission. “Can’t even wait till we’re off of your mom’s property, can you? So fucking needy for me.”

“Please, daddy, can I play with your cock?” You look to his face with the best set of innocent doe eyes and a small smile that you could muster.

“How can I say no to that face?” He relaxes back a little as he shifts into gear to begin to drive. “You know if I have to pull over, you’re in big trouble, princess.”

“Oh? How?”

He chuckles, glancing to you for a moment before returning focus onto the road. “No way you’ll be able to sit during work tomorrow after I smack that ass raw. That’s just the beginning, though. Maybe I won’t play with your cunt for a few days… Just use that pretty little mouth of yours to get me off.”

You let out a soft huff, weighing your options, and decide to be extra careful as you begin to jerk him off. Slowly and almost too softly, using your fingertips to trace against his tip. You listen to the noises he makes and begin to add some speed to your movement.

“Mmm, feels good, princess.”

You continue to work Dean until you know you’re close to your apartment. When you suddenly stop, you see his eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t have time to ask why you’ve stopped before you’re undoing your seatbelt and adjusting yourself to lean over his lap. You give a slow lick along his full length before swirling your tongue around his tip, gathering the bit of fluid that had beaded there. From the way the car moves, you know you only have a couple minutes before you’re at your complex.

Little by little, you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. One of his hands fists your hair, pushing you further down for a moment and holding you there. When you begin to gag on him and you dig your nails into his thighs, he pulls you completely off and helps you sit up. He’s pulling into the parking space in front of your building.

“Why don’t you go get yourself ready for me, sugar?”

  
  
  


“Aren’t those for kids?” You giggle.

“I seem to remember  _ somebody _ calling me childish just the other day.” Dean grins as he drops the Nerds candy into the basket of the cart you push.

“Dean. All you and Joe have in the house is like, one box of expired Lean Cuisine and booze.”

“Um, there’s definitely a jar of peanut butter somewhere!” He’s got one of those smirks on his face.

“Oh, the one with the cobwebs all over it? Yeah, baby, I’d really love some dusty peanut butter for dinner tonight. Just straight out the jar.”

He laughs and begins to walk towards the next aisle. “What do you want for dinner, then?”

You hum and watch him looking over the cereal options. “We could cook together tonight? Celebrate my first official night at the house?”

“You are the cutest thing, princess.”

“You’re cute,” you laugh. “C’mon, let’s make some pasta. You can pick one of your many, many bottles of wine.”

“I’d love that,” he mumbles as he puts a box of sugary cereal in the cart, pretending to be sly. You let it slide this time, but when you try to get to the produce you need to cook tonight, and Dean’s piles of chips, Hot Pockets, Toaster Strudel, and other snacks get in the way, you cut him a glare.

“What?” He gives you an innocent look.

“The cart’s getting too full. Put something back.”

Dean pouts. Actually, full on pouts. With puppy eyes and everything. Immediately, you feel your heart melt and you know you’re going to cave. But you don’t want him to win this quick, so you pretend to make a big deal and roll your eyes at him.

“Come on, sugar,” he whispers as he gets closer to you, “we need all of this stuff.”

“Yeah? And why’s that, baby?”

“Well how else are we going to get our energy back up after we have an all day sex marathon?”

“Dean!” You glance around to see if anyone’s heard.

“What?!”

“You know what.”

He just smiles and leans forward to kiss your cheek, but stays close to whisper in your ear, “you know how you tire me out, princess, I’m sure you feel the same way, hm? And now that you’re with me  _ all  _ the time, how is daddy supposed to keep his hands off his little slut?”

Your breath stutters in your throat as you process what he just said, trying to control the heat in your cheeks. You take half a step back and look at him, biting your lip.

“Mm, there’s that look.”

“What look, daddy?” Your voice is almost too quiet for him to hear you.

“Let’s finish this shopping so I can get you home and you don’t have to keep your hands to yourself anymore, alright princess?” Under his breath he adds, “and so I don’t have a fucking boner in the store.”

Later that night, the kitchen’s a little bit of a mess from when the two of you cooked your dinner together. But you don’t mind because now you’re holding your wine glass in one hand and you’re curled into Dean’s side, running your other hand through his hair. MTV is on, but you’re not paying attention.

“Baby?”

“Princess?”

You smile at the way he says the nickname; the tenderness in his voice and the way he turns his attention to you almost immediately warms your heart. “Can I ask you something kind of dumb?”

“Shoot,” he says, a slight wrinkle of concern in his brow.

“Before we started dating,” you begin. “Syd was trying to...turn me off of you. She told me you weren’t really a...relationship kind of guy. What...was that true then?”

Dean sighs, his eyes drift away from yours and towards the TV again. “At one point, yeah, I guess Syd was right. I haven’t had a steady girl before you in awhile. But I just didn’t really...see myself with them.”

“So I was different?” You’re half joking when you ask, but Dean doesn’t smile.

“You are different.” He turns his face back towards you and finally smiles softly, “you mean a lot to me. And after I started getting to know you, I saw that. Remember that time, the day after we first hooked up and we went to dinner at Spago?”

“Remind me,” you press him.

“I told you about the Mean Dean nickname and then we talked for a couple hours through dinner? That was the night I asked you to be my girl.”

“Yes, I do remember. I think that’s the first time you came into my apartment, too.”

“Mmm, yeah.” He adjusts so he can be as close as possible to you. “During dinner, I knew I needed you to be mine. I didn’t want there to be any way that you’d be with someone else.”

“You had a genuine crush on me.”

An amused grin spreads across his lips as he lets out a short laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I had a crush on you, sugar. Those first few days you worked at the office, I was sitting in my office trying to figure out a way to get a conversation started with you everyday.”

“Dean, that’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his wine.

You kiss his cheek, “I had a crush on you, too.”

“I know. You kept staring at my lips and flirting very obviously with me,” he laughs, “not professional at all.”

“Wanna be more unprofessional right now?”

Dean takes your glass and sets it on the table with his before standing and picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder, causing you to giggle and squeal, taking you straight to the bedroom without another word.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone! Hope you enjoy!

The Christmas carols were playing over the speakers Joe had installed into the house specifically for the parties the BBC had decided to throw. Clubs were less exclusive nowadays and there could be people the boys didn’t want to associate with getting in. So, when Dean and Joe had approached you and Syd about turning the house into a private nightclub, you gave them the idea to start with a company Christmas party.

Sydney began decorating the day before, spray painting some pines to look like there was snow. The four of you decorated the indoor trees with tinsel and ornaments. You baked some treats for the beginning of the party, knowing it would be abandoned by the time the guests brought out the drugs and alcohol. 

You have to help Dean and Joe wrap some of the presents that are going under the tree, and while you were doing that, Syd opens a bottle of champagne to split between the three of you. As you get towards the bottom of your glass, you feel a little warm inside and sit on Dean’s lap as he and Joe finalize a few details.

“Alright, sugar,” Dean mumbles, patting your backside gently, “we should get ready. Guests are going to be arriving any second now.”

You hum and stand, leaving your glass and Dean’s on the table and dragging him behind you to the bedroom. As you turn the corner, you can see Syd roll her eyes and take them to the kitchen.

Deciding not to mention it, you file away how passive aggressive she is when it comes to your boyfriend. You’ve been seeing her a  _ lot  _ more often recently and can’t tell if she’s always been like this or if it’s multiplied now that the two of you don’t have your old apartment to go to sometimes.

“You excited, princess?” Dean strips his shirt to change into a new one and pulls a jacket on while you change into your outfit, a cute new Santa themed dress that the other girls had convinced you to match with them.

“Always,” you tell him with a kiss before you hear the commotion.

He grins, “do you wanna get high?”

“I, uh,” you blink, not sure if you do. “I never have before.”

“Come try it with me?”

You can’t resist his face, so you nod, “I’ll try it this once.”

“Only if you want to.”

“Yes, I want to try coke, but only with you.” You can’t help but laugh a little.

Without another word, he slides on a pair of sunglasses and leads you to the bathroom where the rest of the boys are. Q and Rosanna are dancing along to their made up song, “dashing through the snow, with a straight edge razor blade. Bags and bags of blow, do it till we fade! Hundred dollar bills really gets you high!”

They mumble the rest of the lyrics and you don’t catch them with how nervous you are about trying this. You allow Scott and Charlie the first couple of lines, watching and learning. Dean goes next, and you step forward, nervous about how you’ll react to it. Flipping your hair over to one side, leaning over to the small straw like piece and put it up your nostril. You snort, holding the other nostril closed. You stand upright and breathe in a few more times, feeling like the powder is falling out, burning your nose.

Dean’s hand is on your back as you move away to let the next person take their line. He looks at you with a smile and you shake your head.

“I don’t know about that,” you tell him.

“Oh,” his smile falters for a moment, but he regains it. “That’s okay, doll, it’s not for everyone. Would you… Do you mind if I…?”

“Of course not, I don’t want to change your lifestyle, baby,” you lean forward to kiss him softly, “as long as you’re being safe.”

“I love you,” he mumbles and takes your hand. “C’mon, let’s be good hosts.”

It’s not long before the high hits you and you’re gripping onto Dean tightly, not sure why you suddenly feel so paranoid that someone will know you’re high, they’ll call the cops and have them stop the party. You’ve read about the drug before, and you’ve been lectured in school about it, so you know normally people feel more confident. That’s normally how Dean acts while he’s high, if it’s even possible. You also know it’s a short high, so all you can do is ride it out. You’re careful not to drink anything but water to sober up, though you can see the only other person doing this is Joe, and you feel slightly better he’s there and of sound mind.

Your boyfriend is almost constantly present with you, touching you and introducing you to pretty much anyone who walks up to you. You get to meet a Persian prince named Izzy before he rushes off to talk to the Biltmores. About halfway through the party, he asks you to grab his camcorder. You go to retrieve it from the bedroom, and when you come back, you see a girl trying to flirt with him, you decide to watch for a few seconds and notice he is trying to get away without appearing rude. Inwardly, you celebrate. He had told you in the past he only wants you, but seeing the arguably hottest girl at the party throw herself at him and seeing him rejecting her was definitely a good confidence boost.

“Hey baby,” you call to him as you bring the camera to him, “sorry it took a little while, I was having a hard time finding it.”

Dean looks at you with gratefulness and swoops in to kiss you, “thank you, princess.”

The girl looks upset, but she turns away and finds Charlie instead. He films part of the party, just documenting everything going on and getting quite a bit of footage of you dancing with the other girls, everyone doing karaoke, and some footage of you pushing the camera away before you would kiss him or dance with him. After awhile, Scott and Kyle approach him and there’s a hushed conversation. Dean switches the camera off and walks away with them to talk to Joe.

“Hey everyone, time for Secret Santa!” Joe yells out and everyone rushes to the living room. You find your way to Dean and he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

You watch as the boys open up the envelopes with their shares of the BBC. When they hear how much it’s worth, they freak out and start cheering. You’re happy for the boys and you cheer with them.

“Wait a minute,” you can hear Ron yell over the commotion, “wait a minute, I can’t take it anymore! Open says me!”

He hands to identical boxes to Joe and Dean, obviously excited for them to open them. You watch Dean open his and your jaw drops.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he breathes, “holy shit, it’s a Rolex.”

Ron begins to give a speech, but you’re too busy helping Dean put his new watch on his wrist. You know the two of you had promised each other to do your gift exchange the next day without anyone around, but now you’re afraid that with something like a fucking Rolex, he won’t even remember that you got him anything.

When the party begins to wind down, you help people find their belongings and call a cab when they’re too fucked up to drive. Joe helps you, and Sydney tries her best, even though she was still kind of tipsy. Dean’s still having fun with the rest of the group, and you don’t want to tear him away. 

Another hour later, and you and Joe are helping Q and Scott into a cab, the last guests of the party. 

“We make a good team,” Joe smiles, holding his hand out for a high five. You smack it and smile back. “Should we start to clean up tonight?”

You look back to the living room and see Dean stumbling towards you with a grin. “We can clean tomorrow.”

“Princess!”

“See you later,” Joe whispers to you and walks past Dean, patting his shoulder.

“Hey, handsome,” you smile back at Dean as he walks to you, holding your arms out to wrap around his neck. “How are you feeling?”

He nuzzles his face into your neck, pulling your hips against his, “great. What about you?”

“I’m doing alright,” you tell him, tilting your head a little to give him more access, “pretty tired though.”

“Can I take you to bed?” His lips pull into a smirk against your skin.

“Always,” you tease back and start to walk him backwards towards your bedroom. His hands don’t move from your hips and he begins to kiss and bite at your skin, eliciting noises from your lips.

“I need you right now, sugar.” He bites your earlobe. “I want you in my lap, riding me.”

You whimper, nodding at him, “please, daddy?”

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

Dean takes you to the bedroom and you spend the night getting lost in each other and falling asleep tangled in each other's limbs. The next morning, you’re still pressed into his side.

“Baby, you awake?”

Dean just groans a response, his eyes still closed.

You laugh quietly, “how’s your head feel?”

“Shh,” he tells you and lets out a sigh.

“So no presents, then?”

“I’ve got you right here, do I really need anything else, princess?”

While a smile spreads across your lips, you move closer to place kisses all over his face. You pull him as close as you can, suddenly feeling the need to touch him, to feel him near you. He allows you to cuddle with him for a little bit while he wakes up slowly.

It’s nearly half an hour later when Dean kisses your forehead, “alright, let’s do presents, princess.”

You laugh at that and slide out of the bed, pulling a shirt on over your head and find the bag of presents the two of you hid in your closet. You hadn’t wanted anyone to accidentally ruin the surprise at the party.

“Here, open this one first,” you hand him a small present, trying to keep the smile off of your face. He raises an eyebrow before pulling at a corner of the tape. You watch, waiting for his reaction. A couple months ago, he had told you that he didn’t understand the craze about Rubix Cubes, so you had decided then that it would be the gag gift you got him for Christmas.

He laughs as he gets it open, “really now?”

“I know you’ve just been  _ dying _ to get one,” you tease, “I had to get you one. I got you a couple real gifts, too, open them.”

“I thought we’d take turns,” he pulls the next gift out. “Here.”

You narrow your eyes and slowly open up the paper. A long black jewelry box is there and you panic for a second, thinking he got you something too expensive, but you open it up and grin. “Dean, this is beautiful.”

“Are you serious?” He laughs, tilting the box to him, “it’s a fuckin’ Swatch, I thought we were on the same page about how tacky they are.”

“I dunno, now that I’ve got one, I think it could really go with  _ any _ outfit.” You pull it from the box, “what time is it?”

“It’s 11:13,” he laughs again and watches you set the time before putting it on your wrist. “Why does it actually look good on you?”

You lean forward to place a kiss on his lips, “thank you.” You pull the next of his presents out to hand him. “This one is actually serious, and I really hope you like it.”

“I can guarantee I will,” he tells you, ripping off the paper and opening the box to a sunglasses case, “Ray Bans?”

You grin wider as he opens the case and pulls out the new sunglasses you got him. “I know you have a pair, but these are different, they—“

“Princess, I love them.” He kisses you and goes back to admiring them, “you shouldn’t have spent this much money though, I’m supposed to be spoiling you.”

You frown, “I wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

His gaze softens and he reaches his hand out to touch your cheek, “thank you. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, they’re amazing. I love them. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dean, so much.”

His smile turns into a smirk before he pulls out the next gift, “you don’t even know.”

You give him a confused look before taking it from his hand. The next gift is heavier than any other one so far. Before you start tearing the wrapping, you drag your fingers along the edge and you can tell it’s a book. You smile at him and you can tell how excited he is for you to open it. Carefully, you find a seam to start tearing. You move the paper and your heart starts beating faster when you see “Salinger” on the spine.

_ The Catcher in the Rye _ stares back at you, and you know it’s one of the first few editions. Your hand flies to your mouth and you can feel the happy tears form in your eyes. With your free hand, you open it gently and thumb through the pages. You can feel your tears spill over your eyelids. 

“Dean,” you’re finally able to breathe out, “I…”

“Are you happy crying?”

You nod, crying a little harder, “this is the nicest thing I’ve ever gotten. I can’t thank you enough for this. You… Dean, I… Holy fuck, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he pulls you closer and you kiss him, holding him tight against you. When you pull away, he wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, smiling, “I didn’t know there’d be this kind of reaction. I would've saved it for last.”

You laugh a little, “yeah, the next gift won’t compare at all.” You take out the small bag and hand it to him.

Dean pulls the tissue paper out and looks inside, confused. “Oh. This isn’t something I would have guessed you would have picked out for me.” He pulls the silk scarf out of the bag and studies the pattern.

“Yeah, you know, I picked it up and it felt  _ really _ nice against my skin.”

“What?” His gaze snaps back up to you.

“I figured it wouldn’t leave as much irritation as your ties do,” you smirk as he understands what you’re saying.

“Thank  _ god _ my next gift goes hand in hand with this.”

You can already guess what it is, but you pull out the clothes box, ripping the paper off so you can get to it faster. You move the lid and throw the tissue paper to the side, and your eyes fall on a gorgeous set of lingerie. It’s a dark red, almost a maroon, sheer in most places, and decorated with a pretty lace pattern.

“Well, I simply  _ must _ go try this on, shouldn’t I, daddy?”

Dean groans and nods, already cleaning up the bed to be ready for you when you come back.

You rush to the bathroom to change and quickly get ready, probably a little too eager to get back to the room. Dean’s got the bed cleared and the scarf in his hands, studying it in his hands.

You clear your throat to get his attention, and he finally lays his eyes on you. “Wow.”

“You like?”

He swallows, watching as you run your hands over your body and he slowly nods, “that color looks amazing on you, sugar.”

“Yeah?” You walk towards him, straddling his lap.

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” His hands are gentle as he begins to trace them over your body. “God, you look delicious.”

You roll your hips against him before leaning in for a kiss. He squeezes your backside and groans into the kiss. He continues to let his hands roam over you as you continue to tease him with your grinding. After a few more moments of the humping, you feel his fingers tease at the waistband of the panties.

You pull back enough to moan his name as he teases you by not dropping his hand far enough. His breath mixes with yours as you pant out, and finally his fingers dip between your folds, teasing you softly.

“So wet for me,” he says, barely above a whisper, “love getting to work you up like this.”

You can only whine as he grazes over your clit with his thumb, trying to roll your hips again to get more friction, “please…”

“You’re already begging, sugar? We haven’t even made it to the fun part yet.”

Another desperate noise escapes your lips, anticipating the teasing that you were about to face. You know that since you had told him you liked the feel of it on your skin, he’d take full advantage and tease you for longer.

“C’mon, let’s get you on your back, hm?” He helps you slide off of him, both of you standing for a moment. Before he can help move you to the bed again, you pull him into a kiss. He then turns you around, so you’re facing away from the bed, and lightly pushes you down onto it, crawling over you and helping bring your arms up to the headboard. He picks up the scarf and brings it up to wrap around your wrists and tie them tight. “How’s that feel, princess?”

“I need it tighter, daddy,” you whimper and watch his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Please?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you nod and tug your wrists, proving your point as the knot moves a little bit.

He redoes the knot and you tug again. When it doesn’t move, he nods to himself and drops his head down to kiss you again before moving down to your neck and then your chest, kissing over the lace that covers your breasts. “I can’t wait to see you come apart under my fingers, princess.”

Dean slowly pulls the bottoms of your lingerie down your thighs, teasing you with his featherlight touches grazing against your bare skin, leaving behind goosebumps. You shiver and spread your legs a little more, allowing him a better area to lay. He ducks his head down and licks a slow stripe up your folds, flicking the tip of the tongue against your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper, wiggling your hips a little. His hands pin you down as he flicks his tongue over you again. The strength he uses is sure to leave marks on you. “Daddy, fuck, I…”

“What is it, sugar?”

“I want to hump your face,” you almost feel a little embarrassed saying it out loud, but the dark lust that glazes his eyes over has you glad you did.

“You wanna grind that pretty pussy against my mouth?” He bites at your inner thigh, sucking a mark there. “You want to beg me for it, like a good slut? Maybe I’ll let you if you can convince me.”

You know that he wants to try it out, but you whimper and begin your pleading, using the most desperate voice you can muster, “daddy, please let me, I need you to let me do that.”

“Do what, princess?”

“I need to hump your face, I need to show you how good you make me feel, daddy, please.”

He hums in thought and leans down again to blow cool air on your slick, and you try to move your hips then, whining. With a smirk, Dean loosens his grip on you and looks up to your eyes. “Be careful, princess, can’t have you coming without my permission.”

You let out a short moan as you’re able to roll your hips freely. He leans down, keeping his eyes on yours for as long as he can before he focuses back on your aching core. His tongue flicks against your clit again before he buries it deep into your hole. You grind your hips against him, making his nose press against your clit.

Dean moans against you, making your hips stutter in your movements. You pick up the rhythm again, his tongue stretching into you. Biting your lip to quiet your noises, you wrap your thighs around his face a little tighter. “Fuck, already so close, daddy… You’re so good at this.”

He pulls one arm around your front, pinning your hips down while he pulls his face away, your slickness transferred all over his chin, mouth, and nose. He smirks up at you and bites at your thigh before sucking over the skin there.

“Why do you mark me up on my thighs?” you tease, “no one can see those, they won’t know I’m taken.”

Dean raises his eyebrow, “oh, is that right? You’re being especially bad today, princess. You want me to mark you up on your chest?” He pushes himself higher onto you, pressing kisses on the edge of the bra. He goes just a little higher, biting and sucking below your collarbone, pulling moans and whimpers from your lips. “What about your neck?”

“Please, daddy,” you try to wriggle from underneath him, but he rests his whole weight on you. His teeth connect with the skin on your neck. While you whine and get lost in the teasing he’s doing against your neck, he distracts you enough to begin to tease your thighs with his fingers, brushing softly against your skin before they dip back between your folds, not wasting any time in beginning to pump his fingers in at a quick pace, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

He pulls back to watch your face for a moment, working you up and getting you just to your edge again before stopping again. This time, he sits up on his knees and puts his fingers to your mouth, having you suck the taste of yourself off of him.

“Are you doing okay?” He whispers as he takes his fingers out of your mouth.

“Mhmm,” you nod. “Please keep going.”

His eyes turn dark again as he goes straight back into it, teasing you to your edge yet again. His fingers work you faster this time, “you look like such a cheap fuckin’ whore. Dripping and whining, practically gagging for it, hm? Dirty little slut.”

“Please, daddy, I need to come,” you whimper, “I want you to fuck me, please, I  _ need  _ you to fuck me. I want your big cock in me.”

“Yeah?” He slows his fingers and sees how desperate you look while you try to move your hips faster. “How bad do you want it?”

“I need it, I need you, Dean.”

He pulls his fingers out of you again and leans down to kiss you, “anything for you, princess.”

He stands, dropping the boxers he had been wearing and then climbs back into the bed, resting on his knees between your legs. Dean kisses you again before lining himself up and guiding his erection into your sensitive core.

You can’t help yourself as you let out a high pitched whine at the same time Dean lets out a deep moan. Your walls can barely hold him, which he definitely notices and smirks down at you.

“So fuckin’ tight… Warm and wet around me, sugar, make me feel so good…” His voice gets deeper and you know he’s been waiting for this moment all morning.

He speeds his thrusts up, leaning down to press sloppy kisses everywhere he can before he captures your lips with his, muffling the noises you make. He drops one of his hands between your bodies to rub at your clit, the other holds your face. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to get a better angle.

He pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, letting out a long groan, “fuck, you feel incredible.”

“I’m so close,” you tell him, “please, can I come, daddy?”

“Come for me, doll,” he bites his lip as he watches you fall apart, pounding into you still as he nears his own orgasm. You feel him spill into you and collapses on top of you. “So good.”

You let out shaky breaths, feeling light headed after finally getting what you want. “Baby, my wrists…”

“Sorry,” he whispers and pushes himself up to untie you. “You’re so beautiful, princess. Let’s get you in the shower.”

You pull his face to yours, kissing him again. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He laughs, “Merry Christmas.”


	16. Chapter 16

“You look...so fuckin’ sexy,” Dean grins as you walk out in your new clothes. After Syd had suggested that the four of you play some doubles matches, Dean was adamant about playing  _ and  _ looking better than his friend.

“Oh, you like this?” You do a small spin, letting the white tennis skirt flow and show off your legs. “I feel like this polo doesn’t do me justice like the ones I take from you.”

“Well, if you wore one of mine, we wouldn’t make it to the court,” he takes your hand, pulling you closer, “even now, we’re barely gonna fuckin’ make it.”

You press a kiss to his lips and only break away when you hear a gagging noise. Syd is standing there, in a similar outfit, waiting for Joe.

“Excited?” You ask her as Dean turns away to pick up the tennis rackets. He doesn’t do much to hide the eye roll.

“To kick your asses, yes,” she tilts her head to the side. “Have you played before?”

Joe comes down the stairs before you have a chance to reply. He looks at Syd with an adoring smile. “Look at you, babe!”

She turns to him, her expression softer. “Me? Look at you.”

With that, you turn to help Dean. It doesn’t take too long for you to load Joe’s car, and soon the four of you are off to the country club Dean plays at.

The beginning of the match is frustrating. Dean’s being a court hog, and Syd and Joe have scored a couple more points than you would have liked.

“Can we have a time out?” You ask loudly, gripping onto your racket tightly. Joe nods and you watch your opponents go off court and grab water.

“You look…” Dean frowns, “pissed.”

You cross your arms and let out an angry huff. “You wanna let me play, too?”

He scoffs, “what do you mean?”

“You’re taking up the whole fucking court. I can’t even get a swing in.”

“I am not.”

“Are you suddenly four? Dean, come on. I know you‘re good at tennis. I also know that Joe and Syd are working together and two against one isn’t going to be fair.” You have to look away because he does look adorable with his sweatband on. “Just let me play, too.”

“I…” he lets out a sigh. “I’m used to singles. I’m sorry, princess.”

“Apology accepted.”

His gaze softens as he takes a step closer to you, “maybe if we got good luck kisses in…”

You smack his chest lightly before leaning close to kiss him.

“Alright, time out’s done. Let’s go,” Syd calls out. “Love-thirty, your serve.”

Dean hands you the ball with a small smile. You get in position to serve it, waiting for him to get into his spot. Once you’re ready, you serve it. The ball bounces once before Joe hits it, straight back to your side. You let it bounce and hit back over. It bounces twice and then out of bounds.

“Ohhh!” Dean cheers, rushing over to kiss you. 

“Our serve,” Joe calls out, effectively bringing your boyfriend’s attention back to the court. Again, it volleys back and forth a few times before you smack it towards Syd, who hits it into the net. “Good try, Syd!”

You smile at Dean who mouths a ‘you’re amazing’ to you before grabbing the ball and getting ready to serve. With a small bit of malice, you call out to Joe for the score.

“Thirty-thirty,” he tells you, and you can see the eye roll from Syd before getting into her position.

The game continues, and in a matter of moments, Dean scores another point. You yell out excitedly, “good job, baby!”

“That puts us at forty-thirty, it’s game point,” he announces and winks at you, a flutter of butterfly wings seems to appear in your stomach. 

You focus up as Sydney takes the ball in her hand. She looks irritated, and you can’t tell if she’s just a sore loser in general, or if she’s specifically angry about losing to Dean. She hits it towards you, and you’re able to hit it back over the net. She almost pushes Joe away to hit it back towards Dean. This continues for a couple more volley’s before you’re able to spike it into their side with a grunt.

“Holy shit!” Dean cheers and suddenly, you’re being lifted in a spinning hug. 

“Dean!” You giggle, holding on tight. “Put me down!”

He sets you back on your feet, but immediately pulls you into in a kiss. “You’re amazing.”

“ _ You’re _ amazing,” you tell him and kiss him again. “Maybe you should bring me around here more often, hm?”

“Oh, I most definitely will.”

“I call a rematch!”

Knowing that your back is turned to her, you roll your eyes and Dean grins at you. He squeezes your side and lets go to approach the net. He talks to Joe while you hang back and catch your breath. Sydney walks towards you, ducking under the net.

“You two are cute,” she tells you, crossing her arms.

You raise an eyebrow, “thank you.”

She lets out a sigh, “just watch out for him. He is nothing but bad news for anyone.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” you tell her softly.

“Oh, I know him. He’s—“

“He’s perfect,” you interrupt. “He is kind, funny, he  _ cares _ about me and my happiness. He—“

“Pays your bills?”

You can feel the anger boiling in you, “are you calling me a gold digger, Sydney?”

Her face falls and she shakes her head, “no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nasty to you. I just really don’t understand why you’re with him, you can do so much better. He’s an awful, cold person.”

“You know what I don’t understand, Syd? Why you even live with us if you hate him so much.”

“I love Joe.”

You roll your eyes, “and I love Dean.”

“No, you…” She shakes her head, turning away from you. After just a second, you realize why. Dean’s standing a couple feet away with a tight lipped smile.

You let out a sigh, “baby, I’m sorry I yelled at your friend.”

“Don’t apologize, sugar,” he whispers as he gets closer, a smirk playing on his lips, “but just know, it was incredibly sexy to hear you talk back to her like that.”

“Mm, thought you didn’t like it when I talked back, daddy?”

“Well,” he chuckles, shrugging a shoulder, “as long as you know  _ I’m  _ still in charge and you listen to me…”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Click. Flash. Whir.

“Dean, stop it,” you swat at him playfully. He throws the developing picture onto the side table and takes another of you trying to hide behind your hands. “I’m not wearing any makeup or anything!”

“You’re gorgeous, let me capture it.” He takes a third picture of you laughing and grins, leaning down to kiss your face over and over. You push him to the side to make him lay down on his back and take the Polaroid out of his hand, straddling his waist and line up a shot.

His face breaks into a grin as he rolls his eyes, “alright, princess, give it back.”

“Nope,” you look through the viewfinder and take a picture of him. As it prints, you lean down and kiss him, giggling against his lips. He rubs your sides and hips before rolling you off and taking the camera back again.

“C’mere,” he mumbles and turns the camera towards the two of you. He leans forward to kiss you again, and as your eyes are closed, you can hear him take a photo, listening to the whir of it printing. “Alright, that’s probably enough of this.”

“One more,” you tell him and adjust the camera to where it was before. “Smile, baby.”

He does and you lean towards him, kissing his cheek. He clicks the button and you hold still until the whirring picks up again. When it prints, you pick it out of the top of the camera and gather the others, holding them out fanned like a hand of cards.

“Oh, no,” he groans as he sees the one you took of him, he shakes his head. “That’s going in the trash.”

“It most certainly is not!” You hold it against your chest so he can’t take it from you easily. “I’m putting it at my desk.”

“Yeah? Well, then I want...this one for  _ my  _ desk.” He picks one of the ones of you smiling in bed before you had told him to stop. Then he picks the one of the two of you kissing. “This one for my car.”

“This one is my new bookmark,” you pick the one of you kissing his cheek and study it for awhile, his smile contagious as you feel yourself grin. “You look so happy in this one, baby.”

“I am happy,” he tells you simply, kissing the top of your head. “I’ve got my girl with me.”

You smile at him and lean forward to kiss him properly again. You feel yourself taking mental snapshots to remember this moment as long as you can before you turn to your side table and pick up your current book, placing the photo in between the pages and moving the piece of paper you had used before to the front cover.

“Wanna read to me, princess?” He gets more comfortable in the sheets. “I could use a bedtime story.”

“You want me to read  _ Great Gatsby _ to you?” You raise your eyebrows in surprise. You didn’t mind at all, you just hadn’t expected him to want to hear it.

Dean nods and you laugh, opening the book to the beginning. You clear your throat and begin to read, “in my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.”

* * *

  
  
  


With Joe’s birthday fast approaching, Dean and the other guys of BBC asked you to bake the cake after tasting all your snacks from the Christmas party. You agree pretty easily, especially when Dean had given you puppy dog eyes and a pout.

You’re in the kitchen, setting the temperature on the oven and making sure you’ve got all your ingredients out on the counter.

“Hey sugar, got enough sugar?”

You roll your eyes playfully at your boyfriend, turning to face him. He’s leaning against the opposite counter from you and looking good with his jeans and a button up tucked into them. The sleeves are rolled to the elbows and the top few are undone.

“How’d the meeting go?”

He shrugs a shoulder, “fine. Need a hand?”

“I have a feeling if I let you help me, I’m not going to get done any faster.” You turn back to your workspace and can hear him walk up behind you. He places a hand on the small of your back and reads the recipe from over your shoulder. Trying not to let the warm breath on your neck distract you, you begin to measure out the flour. “If you really want to be helpful, you can separate the eggs.”

Dean moves from you and pulls down a couple small bowls before cracking the first egg on the side of one. You watch him begin to separate the first one before going back to measuring out all your dry things. It’s silent for a moment before you see him head over to the radio and begin to tune the stations. When he’s satisfied with a song, he goes back to your side and finishes the last egg. 

“I need two thirds of a cup of butter,” you tell him as you begin to combine the dry. He’s still being suspiciously quiet through this, just mumbling the lyrics to the song on the radio. It’s driving you crazy not to hear him talking or have him make some kind of move.

Soon enough, you have the batter mixed together. As he begins to pour half of it into one of the round pans, he manages to get some spread across his hand. He finishes pouring it and you watch as it drips down his fingers. You bite your lip and as he moves to the sink to wash it off, you grab his wrist, pulling his hand towards you and very slowly licking the batter off.

His pink lips part and he looks down at you with lust blown pupils. You keep eye contact, looking up through your lashes before you wrap your lips around his digits and suck softly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, but before he can say anything, you pull back from him and turn back to the cake.

“We’re doing a great job so far,” you mutter, “the batter’s really good.”

“Looks like you’ve got some on your shirt,” he whispers, coming closer and fisting the fabric at your waist, “better get it off before the stain sets, hm?”

You pout as you see that there is actually some on your chest. With an idea forming in your head, you smirk up at him and pull from his grasp. “You’re right. I’ll be right back.”

You rush to the wash to try to keep the stain from setting before you walk back in with just your bra on. When Dean sees you, he blatantly stares at the newly exposed clothing. It’s one he bought you, and he knows there’s a matching pair of panties with it. His hand curls into a fist as you walk closer and flash him a quick smile. You walk towards the batter and begin to pour the rest into the second pan. You can feel his eyes staring into your back for a moment before walking next to you. 

“What if you get some on your bra?” He rasps as he holds his finger underneath the pouring liquid. He moves it after just a moment and moves his hand closer to your chest.

“I don’t see any on it,” you breathe out and set the now mostly empty bowl down.

“Hm,” he drags his finger against the edge of the cup, “I do.”

“Don’t get my bra dirty,” you scold him before taking his finger and repeating the action from earlier, cleaning it slowly.

He groans and pulls his finger out from your mouth, moving his hands along the band of your bra before getting to the center of your back, “I’ll buy you a new one. Fuck, I’ll buy you ten new ones. I just want  _ you.  _ Right. Now.”

“I don’t know, I really like this one. Plus, we have to finish baking…” you trail off.

“The cake’s not in the oven yet, it’s fine,” he unhooks the bra and helps the straps fall from your shoulders, “what if I said I  _ need  _ you right now, sugar?” When you hesitate for another moment, he places a soft open mouth kiss to your neck, “please?”

You shiver at the new tone he has taken and you nod, “I’m all yours, daddy.”

“C’mere,” he turns you to face him and undoes your jeans quickly, pushing his hand into the waistband of the panties. “So fuckin’ sexy.”

You pull his face to yours and moan into his mouth as his fingers connect with your clit. You try your best to begin to unbutton his shirt, trying your hardest to keep your composure and keep the shakiness out of your hands. It proves harder than you think with the way he’s pressing against you. 

As you finally manage to get the shirt off of him, you pull away from the kiss. His lips chase yours for just a moment, and you grin, undressing the rest of the way. He follows suit, dropping his pants and underwear almost as quickly as you. He goes in for another kiss, but you dodge it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you tell him, “just wanted to ask you something… Wanna try something different?”

He looks around the room, then back at you with a cocked eyebrow, “isn’t this different?”

“Yes, but I had something else in mind.”

“Care to enlighten me?” Dean pulls your body flush against his own, his erection pressed against your stomach. “Or do I have to guess?”

“Last weekend, you were high,” you begin, “and I told you there was no way I was going to do what you had suggested unless you were sober. Do you remember?”

He blinks slowly, lost in thought for a moment before his lips pull into a smirk and his eyes find yours again. “You want me to fuck you over the balcony so anyone can see?”

“It’s probably dark enough that I feel like I’ll be okay,” you laugh, “plus, I’m  _ really _ wet right now just thinking about it.”

“You were already wet, princess.”

You pull from his grasp and head to the stairs that bring you to the second story patio, raised above the backyard so you have a lovely view of the pool, the city’s skyline, and the sunset when it’s there. Dean follows right behind you and keeps his eyes locked on your backside while you ascend the stairs. As you get closer to the top, he reaches out and plants a firm smack to your ass, making you stutter with your steps.

“Dean!” You throw a glance over your shoulder and giggle as you see how hungry and impatient he looks. When you get to the patio, he pulls you against him again, biting at your neck and grinding his erection against you.

“How long have you been wanting this?” He whispers into your ear.

You let out a contented sigh, “since you mentioned it. Been getting myself wet thinking about it when I look up here.”

“And you never cared to share?” Dean chuckles against your skin. “Daddy would have  _ loved _ to know all about that, princess.”

“You know how fucking hot it is to hear you call yourself daddy?” You look back to make eye contact with him. “Makes me want to be your good little slut.”

“You are starting to push it, you know that?” He shoves you gently forward, making you walk towards the waist high glass balcony. He turns you to kiss you properly, your back pressed against the glass. You card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as he deepens the kiss his hands roam across your body, squeezing slightly on your sides and tighter on your breasts. 

After a moment, he pulls away and turns you away from him, leading you in bending over. You keep your hands on the rail as an extra support as you spread your legs and stick your ass out a little more. Dean takes his time running his hands down your back and then grabs your ass, spreading you a little more. Your heart beats a lot faster and you’re nervous to see what he does next.

“Anyone else ever touch you here?” He whispers as his finger runs over your tight hole.

“N-no, never.” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting back a moan at the new feeling.

“Mm,” he hums in thought as he teases his thumb over it again, “would love to feel how fucking tight you are back here. But maybe another time.”

You shiver at the thought, but you don’t have much time before he’s teasing his cock over your slick heat. Widening your stance a little bit, you sway your hips teasingly. He grabs one of your hips roughly and, once he slides completely into you, lets out a deep groan. 

“Fuck,” you moan out once he snaps his hips forward. You didn’t expect your senses to be heightened this much over the railing, but it gives you a new sense of excitement. Sure, at the office you could be caught, but everyone there knew you and Dean were together. And they all had their own share of fun when their girlfriends would visit. Here...here you didn’t know your neighbors well. They could have people over. This was risky and  _ god _ , you loved how it felt.

He reaches his free hand around and slips two of his fingers into your mouth, letting you muffle your moans while you suck around them. At one point, he stills his hips to focus on the way you take his fingers into your mouth. You begin to push back at the same speed he had set before.

“Fuckin’ hell, look at you,” he groans, “so greedy and eager, what’s gotten into you?”

You moan around his fingers, and suddenly he thrusts them further into your mouth, making you choke on them, gagging and sputtering, but you go straight back to running your tongue between them and he finally begins to thrust forward again.

“Such a good slut, love hearing you choke,” he leans against your body, biting at your shoulders and neck, “love the way you feel around my cock, too, princess. Daddy’s whore knows exactly how to make me feel good, doesn’t she?”

“Mmm,” you hum around his fingers and pout slightly when he pulls them out, but groan again when he wraps them around your throat. “Daddy, choke me harder, please.”

His grip tightens and he bites where your shoulder and your neck meet, this time hard enough to leave a dark hickey. The hand that was on your hip moves between your legs and begins to rub at your clit in sloppy circles. Between the movements of his hips becoming erratic and the shallow pants he lets out, you know he’s close, and you can feel yourself getting there, too.

“Daddy,” you whimper out, “I’m so close. Please…”

“Me, too,” he groans, “hold on just a little bit longer, princess, give me just a second.” He continues to thrust, and finally you know you can’t take it anymore. He seems to notice, too, and groans out, “come for me, sugar.”

Your walls begin to spasm around him and you feel the orgasm go through you in waves, starting at the center of your core and radiating outwards. You can feel yourself shake and tremble as you moan out his name. The edges of your vision go black and you’re not sure if it’s from the lack of oxygen with his hand still around your throat, or the orgasm itself. Finally, another warm sensation goes through you as Dean spills inside your tender folds, his hips continuing until he is done. His grip on your throat relaxes, and then his body seems to collapse onto yours. The two of you pant together, catching your breath. He kisses your back before standing and pulling out of you. You almost whine at the sudden emptiness you feel.

He helps you stand upright and kisses you, “you are incredible. That felt so good. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, baby, that was great.” You smile at him and place another kiss to his lips, “that felt even better than usual.”

“It’s that sugar rush,” he chuckles, “now let’s get back inside and finish the cake before Joe gets home.”

“Don’t get any frosting on your fingers, or else this will all start again.”

“Duly noted.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Honey, I’m home.” Dean’s voice startles you as you are far too focused on your book to have heard him enter the room. You glance up to him where he leans against the door frame, smiling widely at you while you are under the sheets in his bed.

“Hey, handsome,” you say. “How was your meeting?” you ask, pulling the blankets snugly around you and straightening your glasses on your face.

“Same old shit,” he says, tilting his head as he walks closer to the bed. “I missed you, though, princess.”

“I missed you, too. Come get in bed with me.”

“Mmm, don’t have to tell me twice,” he chuckles, loosening his tie and slipping it over his head. As he unbuttons his dress shirt, he gives you a sly smile, his eyes glued to you as you decide to read a few more pages of your book while you wait.

“What is it?” you ask, catching him looking at you. He shakes his head but does not remove the smile from his lips as he watches you read. When he is stripped down to his underwear, and you notice that he is still watching, you slip the photo back into the book and shut it with a snap before you look up at him. “What are you grinning about, Dean?” you laugh.

“Do me a favor,” he says, kneeling on his side of the bed. “Can you say ‘these books are due back on Tuesday’?”

“Alright,” you say, rolling your eyes and setting your book onto the side table.

“C’mon, sugar,” he chuckles, crawling closer to you and grabbing your arm. “Please? Just say it really quick.”

“Fuck you, Dean,” you say, hiding your smile at his antics. “You’re a jerk.” He pulls you to lay on your back so he can brace himself above you by boxing you in between his arms.

“Please?”

“I’m not going to say it, you’re making fun of my glasses.”

“Absolutely not,” he tells you earnestly, “I would never. I find them  _ very _ attractive.”

There’s a moment where neither of you speak. He continues to pout at you from above. Finally, you cave a little and sigh, “these books are due back on Tuesday, Mr. Karny.”

He makes an interested noise and places a kiss on your neck, “you’re so sexy, sugar, but… what if I’m late to turn them in?”

“Mmm,” you feign thinking about it for a moment, “guess you’ll have to make it up to me, won’t you?”

Dean presses another kiss to your collarbone this time, “guess I will, hm?”

He tugs at your shirt’s hem for a moment before he sits back up and helps you pull it over your head. His smirk grows when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra underneath the shirt, so you’re only left in a pair of panties. He kisses a trail down your body, pausing at your breasts to tease at your nipples with his tongue.

“Mm, fuck,” you whine as you feel the wetness begin to pool between your legs. He’s a little slower, teasing you a little more than usual. Finally, his hand is between your legs and he teases you a little through your panties before sliding them down your legs and chucking them behind his shoulder.

He sits up and helps you onto his lap. You slowly grind down onto him and capture his lips in yours. Only a few moments later, he guides himself into you, pulling you close to keep your faces resting together, breathing heavy.

“Fuck, sugar, you feel so good. So tight and nice around me,” he moans against your lips. “Jesus Christ, you look so  _ innocent _ with these on, so goddamn hot.”

“Shit, daddy…” You can barely see through the fog the two of you had created on your lenses, but you don’t even mind, you’re concentrating on how deep Dean is inside you.

“I want to try something,” he groans and begins to rub at your clit with his thumb and you moan loudly. “Do you know how fuckin’ sexy you look when you’re right at the edge, princess? When daddy gets you really close to your orgasm and you start whining and whimpering, your eyes closing… God, I can’t get enough of that. You want to come, princess?”

“Yes, daddy, please,” you beg him, almost out of breath. He rubs harder and you can start to see stars as you hit your climax. He helps you ride it out and you slump forward a little bit before he almost effortlessly pulls you off of him by your hips and lays you down. You’re still trying to catch your breath by the time you understand what he’s doing.

You open your mouth, waiting for his release as he strokes his cock over your face. It doesn’t take long for it to hit your mouth. Only a small amount made it into your mouth, he seemed to be adamant on getting it all over your glasses. 

“Fuck,” you whine, realizing that you’d have to clean them. But you don’t mind too much when you’re able to see his expression of pure attraction between the streaks on the glass. With a smirk, you sit up and beckon him closer to kiss him. “Come back to turn the books in next week. Or we can do this again.”

“I think I’ll be keeping them for quite awhile, sugar,” he grins and kisses you again.

* * *

  
  


Investors have been calling and coming into the office all day. The boys were in back to back meetings, and you hadn’t seen Dean since the two of you had gotten in today. Normally it would be fine, but the previous night had left you exhausted and wishing you could see him. Syd and Joe had gotten into a huge fight, and Joe ended up sleeping on the couch.

Your boyfriend, being the good guy he is, went to comfort his best friend and had stayed out there for hours. Joe turned the TV on and complained to Dean over the volume. Neither of you had gotten much sleep.

After what was probably the thirtieth call of the morning, it was someone asking for Dean. You take the opportunity to dial his line and when he picks up the phone, his hello instantly makes you smile.

“Hey, Dean, there’s a Mr. Stevens on the line for you.”

“Thanks, princess, put him through.”

You frown. Normally he would stall it for a few minutes to be able to talk to you a bit more. “Sure, just a minute. What were you thinking about lunch?”

“I really haven’t thought of that today, I’m fucking swamped.”

“I was just thinking maybe—“

“Can you just put him through? I’m stressed as fuck, and he’s probably pissed off. I don’t have time to worry about going out right now,” he snaps.

“Fine.”

You transfer the call to his line and stare at the phone for a minute. Dean’s never talked to you like that and it  _ hurt _ . You busy yourself with the next call, and try to keep the friendly customer service type voice present while you direct investors through the phones and the offices. A couple hours go by, and the rush has seemed to come to almost a standstill. You’re making a mental list of supplies you’ll need to grab when another call comes in.

“BBC, how may I direct your call?”

“Hey, princess,” Dean’s voice answers, “if you can come to my office, we can talk about lunch now.”

You scoff out loud, “I’m just...fucking swamped right now, Dean. I need to keep the lines clear. I don’t have time to chit chat right now.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up the phone and go back to taking note of your supplies. You quickly rush to the supply closet and grab the things you need. You feel Dean’s gaze on you, but you rush back to your desk without making any eye contact. 

Another thirty minutes goes by, and it seems like the calls have completely stopped at this point. It’s a little later than you would normally go out for lunch, but you’re not going to be the one to cave right now. You’re organizing a few file folders when the familiar set of arms leans over your desk.

“Are you really going to continue to ignore me?”

You don’t reply.

“Alright,” Dean shakes his head, “be a brat.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You snap your head up to glare at him, “you were acting like an asshole, and  _ I’m  _ the brat?!”

There’s just a moment of silence before he speaks again. “You know what? You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You go back to your organizing instead of speaking again. He walks around the desk so he’s next to you. When you still don’t say anything, he squats down and rests a hand on your knee, beginning to push your skirt up your thigh. He presses a kiss to your bare skin, and slowly he pushes your chair further back.

“What are you doing?” You look around the office to see if anyone was around as he begins to crawl under your desk. “Dean!”

“I’m apologizing, sugar. Just relax,” he whispers as he pushes the skirt further up and pulls you by your legs to get you back into place. His fingers make quick work in pulling your panties down your legs. “Mmm, are these ones that I bought you?”

“We’re going to get caught, Dean,” you whisper.

“You know you get off on this, too. But if you really want me to stop…” His fingers are dragging through your growing wetness, teasing your clit softly. Instinctively, your hips angle closer and he chuckles quietly, leaning forward to use his tongue, too.

“Fuck,” you whimper, looking down at him and threading your fingers through his hair. “Don’t stop. Please.”

“You taste so fucking good, sugar,” he tells you as he lazily pumps a finger into your entrance. “Love getting to eat your pretty pussy, getting to see you whimper and shake and fucking fall apart from between your gorgeous legs.”

“Daddy, please don’t tease…”

“Mmm, you know normally I like to keep you begging, but since I’m apologizing…” He doesn’t speak again, just buries his face between your legs and almost immediately begins sucking on your clit. You have to bite your lip to keep a moan from slipping out.

He removes his finger after a moment only to switch it with his tongue. He fucks you in and out of your hole, your free hand gripping the side of your seat. Dean keeps it unpredictable by switching back and forth from your entrance to your clit. A few moments go by before he pulls away to readjust his position, and he grumbles about not getting it “right”. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder to get closer to your heat.

He goes back in, almost like a man starved, and you let your head fall back against the back of the chair. You let your eyes close, really focusing on the way Dean makes you feel. You hear some footsteps, and you begin to freak out, pushing yourself up a little more and pulling Dean’s face from you frantically.

Kyle glances at you with a chuckle and walks out the door. He had seen. You’d been caught and—  _ fuck _ — Dean moans against you, going back in even more hungrily than before. You know he’s happy to have been caught like this, to show off how good he makes you feel.

“I’m so close,” you whimper to him, pushing his face closer so his nose rubs against your clit while he continues to eat you.

The phone rings and you jump. He pulls away to kiss at your thighs. “Gonna answer that?”

“I can’t, daddy, I’m too close.”

“We wouldn’t want our relationship to get in the way of work,” he chuckles against your skin, biting softly. “Why don’t you answer that and daddy will make sure you feel  _ so good _ .”

You pick the receiver up and try to steady your voice, “BBC, how may I d-direct your call?”

“May I speak to Mr. Karny please? This is Mr. Williams.”

“Mr. Karny is in a lunch meeting,” you tell him, trying not to focus on Dean’s lips wrapped around your clit sucking softly. “Would you like me to…” You cover the phone and let out a small whine. “Sorry, would you like me to take a m-message?”

“I’ll call back in a couple hours. Thank you.”

“Thank you, speak with you then.” You slam the receiver back into the cradle and whine again, “fuck, Dean…”

“Clever, a lunch meeting.”

With that, he dives back in to bring you right to the edge. You warn him again that you’re close, and he thrusts two fingers into you while continuing to suck on your clit. One hand still in his hair, you bring the other one up to your mouth to stifle your climax; moaning his name almost too loudly as the heat radiates through you in waves.

As soon as he pulls away, you get a good look at his face and you feel a fresh wave of arousal hit when he looks back at you with a fire in his eyes.

“I’m not fucking done with you just yet, sugar.”

You frown, confused by what he said, but he pushes your chair back so he can crawl out from under you. He holds his hand out, and before you take it, you adjust your skirt back down your thighs. The two of you head to an empty meeting room; one of the only rooms in the office that didn’t have all glass walls. 

You head to the table and turn so you can sit on the edge of it. Dean’s smirk is still present as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it over a chair. He begins to loosen the tie he wears, but doesn’t fully unknot it. Slipping it over his head, he slips it over yours.

“I already knew you looked sexy wearing my clothes,” he chuckles, “but this is something different.”

You don’t respond, just begin to undo his belt and his pants. He tugs the tie to bring you closer and kisses you hard. You manage to get his erection free from the clothes and you’re about to wrap your hand around him when he grabs your wrist.

“What do you want, sugar?” He uses his nose to push your face slightly and kisses along your cheek and jaw. “Tell daddy what you want.”

“I want your cock, daddy, need it stretching me out,” you whimper as he tugs on the tie again. “Please.”

“Good girl.” He pushes your skirt back up and you help him buy wrapping your legs around his waist and tugging him closer. He guides himself into your folds and you both moan. He holds still for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You whimper and dig your fingers into his biceps, “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you,” he whispers back before moving slowly, the rhythm of the thrusts gradually picking up. “I love getting to keep you here at the office. Get to make sure you stay my sweet girl.”

“I’m always yours,” you tell him, kissing him again.

He moves one of his hands between your bodies to rub at your clit and continues to thrust into you, the table moving a couple inches across the floor as you two go. Almost too soon, your second orgasm hits you, and you have to bite down on Dean’s shoulder to keep the desperate noise down. You feel yourself clench around him, walls spasming. As you begin to come down from the high, you feel another warmth spread through you as he finishes inside you.

Dean slumps against you and presses sloppy kisses on your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, trying to get it back in place. After a moment, he pulls out of you and you reach behind you to the box of tissues in the center of the table. He helps clean you up gently.

“Left a couple hickeys on your thighs,” he chuckles. “Sorry about that.”

“I forgive you. For that and for snapping. I know you were really busy this morning and I should have waited to talk to you.”

He shakes his head, “it worked out fine. Listen, we can do an early dinner tonight. Joe’s meeting Syd’s parents tonight and he asked Charlie and I to come drop by Spago’s. The Evans already like us, and it’ll look good for Joe. He’s hoping that maybe Mr. Evans will invest. Since we were screwed over by Ron.”

“I know, baby,” you kiss him softly and take his hand. “We can do dinner, and when you come home, we’ll have ice cream and watch a movie. How about that?”

“You’re the best. What would I do without you?”

You feign thought for a moment, “mmm, you would probably jerk off a lot more.”

He laughs and your heart soars. You love hearing him laugh. “I’m serious, sugar, I would be lost.”

“Well, I’m here, Dean. You have me.”


	18. Chapter 18

“You look like shit.” Syd’s voice pulls you from your reading. For a moment, you think she is speaking to Joe, but you can distinctly hear Dean’s voice responding to her. You creep down the hallway, listening carefully.

“I don’t know, Syd. He’s your boyfriend.” You lean against the wall, staying out of sight as you continue to snoop on the conversation.

“Well, were you with him tonight?” Syd asks.

“Oh, seriously?!” Dean snaps. “Deal with it yourself.”

“What have you guys been doing?!”

“It’s been a really long night, Sydney,” Dean booms. “So either shut the fuck up, or get outta here!” You bite your lip, somewhat selfishly enjoying how Dean sounds when he is worked up. They do not talk for a moment, so you panic thinking that you have been caught, until Dean speaks again. “Are you moving out?” he asks, voice quieter than before.

“Yes,” she replies simply.

“Now? In the middle of the night?” Again, there is a moment of silence, and you wonder how you had not heard Syd packing her bags while you were home.

“Where’s Ron Levin?” Syd asks, pulling you back into your eavesdropping. You do not hear a response, but Syd continues. “You guys did something to him, didn’t you?” Silence. “Well, I know that you did,” she says. “And I can promise you everybody else will, too.”

“No, I didn’t do anything to Ron Levin!” Dean exclaims. “Did you see Joe today?” Their voices are getting farther away, and you peek around the corner to see Syd walking towards the front door with Dean hot on her trail. “Hey!” he snaps at the girl, causing you to jump.

“You know, you wish that you could be like Joe, but you’re nothing like him,” Syd sneers.

“You are  _ really _ pushing it, Sydney, okay?” he mumbles.

“You  _ ruined _ Joe,” she says. “All he ever wanted was to belong, and you made him think he needed a BMW for that. Joe could have been  _ anything _ in the world. And now he’s twisted, and he’s lost because you fucking ruined him!” You feel anger rising inside of you at the way she speaks to Dean; ordinarily, you are not a violent person, but Syd has started to push you with the tone she takes with Dean.

“Joe was locker fodder long before me,” Dean taunts. “A geek you never would have spread your fucking legs for--” The slap echoes through the halls of the house, and as soon as you realize what happened, you take off towards them.

“What did you do to him?!” Syd screams, shoving and smacking Dean with every word. You slip between them, pressing your back to Dean and pushing Syd away.

“Whatever this is about,” you say. “It’s over  _ right now _ .”

“Do you really want to know?” Dean says from behind you, still trying to poke at Syd. “You  _ really  _ wanna know?” You turn around to face him, and are finally able to see his bloodshot eyes, puffy and brimming with tears. There is dried blood around his nose and ear, and a stain had set into his shirt. He breathes heavily, glaring at Syd with a mix of fury and sadness.

“Dean,” you say, softly, getting his attention. “Baby, calm down.” You grasp his face with both hands, keeping your touch soft as you continue to speak quietly to him. “I need you to breathe,” you soothe. “Focus on me, okay?” Dean nods slowly, more tears seeming to brim at his eyes.

“He needs to tell me where the  _ fuck _ Joe is!” Syd snaps. You spin around, switching back into defense mode as you glare at Syd; the girl, seeing your rage, tries to reason with you by saying your name in a pleading tone. “Something happened to Ron Levin,” she says, slowly. “ _ He _ did something.”

“I fuckin’--!” Dean begins to scream, but you reach one arm behind you, hooking it around the small of Dean’s back to hold him firmly to you in an effort to calm him.

“Syd,” you return. “I don’t care what happened. If you come for him again, you’re gonna find  _ me _ . And I promise you that is not something that you want.” The girl stares at you, breathing hard. 

“You—”

“No, let's talk about  _ you _ ,” you interrupt. “ _ You _ slapped my boyfriend. So, I suggest you get your bags that you already packed and get the fuck out of here, before you’re on the ground, collecting your fucking teeth.” Syd glances past you to Dean, who you can hear breathing ragged behind you, shuddering. When she looks back at you, she shakes her head.

“You deserve each other,” she scoffs. You watch as she collects her bags and exits the house. No sooner does the front door close then you are turning to face Dean, both arms slipping around his midsection and holding him gently.

“Baby, tell me what happened,” you implore. His face sinks, and the silent tears begin to fall down his face.

“I fucked up,” he gasps. “I fucked up really bad.” You lead him towards the sofa, sitting him down gently and opting to sit on the coffee table in front of him. 

“Dean, you have to talk to me,” you whisper. “Please, baby.”

“It all went wrong,” he says, shaking his head, rubbing one fist across his tear stained cheek. “It was supposed to be a quick and easy process...but he wouldn’t get in the fuckin’ box.” Your face scrunches in confusion, and you set your hand under Dean’s chin to tilt his head up.

“What does that mean?” you ask. He does not respond, only stares at you until his eyes begin to water more, his chin beginning to tremble. “Baby,” you whisper, taking his hands. “I need you to focus and tell me what’s going on.” His hands shake in your grasp so you kiss them both softly before holding them in your lap. “Please, Dean.”

“I killed him.” The words hit you hard in the chest and your stomach drops as they sink in.

“You…you killed someone…” It was less of a question and more of a statement as you try to understand the gravity of what he is saying. “Was it…?”

“I didn’t kill Ron,” he says, hurriedly, his face softening even more as he begins to panic. “Joe killed Ron. I mean,  _ Tim  _ killed him but Joe was there...Joe killed him.”

He continues to ramble, and the only thing you can pull from what he says is that he killed someone he called ‘the Persian’ in self defense. The words come out in a jumble, and you can barely understand the specifics, but he begins to cry again, shaking even harder.

Though you are scared by the situation, the terror that is clear on Dean’s face engages your protective side. There is a part of you that wants to run for the door, listen to what Syd was saying, and never look back. But Dean is terrified, a complete wreck; you want nothing more than to help him.  _ You need to save him. _

“Listen to me,” you say, setting your hands on his biceps and stopping him from his now incoherent tirade. “You were caught up...in some stuff that Joe started when he killed Ron, yeah? And you were scared...so you had to go along with what Joe was planning, because you thought he would kill you, too. When you opened the box, he was already dead.”

“No, that’s—”

“Stop,” you interrupt, cupping his cheek with one hand to get him to focus. “He was dead...when you opened the case, do you hear me?” Dean is breathing heavily, not breaking eye contact with you; after a moment, his face softens, his eyes giving off nothing but adoration for you. “That’s what you said, isn’t it?” you push.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Joe must have killed him.” You nod your head, rubbing your thumb across his cheek to wipe the tears away.

“Okay,” you smile, standing up. “It’s late. Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can get in bed.” He looks up at you, his eyes still puffy but they are wide, staring up at you in almost childlike wonder.

“Do you still love me?” he breathes. You swallow hard, keeping your gaze on him as you feel your eyes begin to water.

“Of course I do. This changes nothing; I love you with all of my heart, Dean Karny.” The breath that he releases is shuddered, and relief washes over his face. You take his hands and help him from the sofa, leading him along with you to the bedroom. “You wanna take a shower, baby?” you ask, as you begin to unbutton his shirt for him. He nods his head slowly, keeping eye contact. You slip the shirt off of his shoulders and throw it aside, before taking his hand and urging him to follow you into the bathroom.

Noticing how weak Dean appears, undoubtedly a mixture of being scared and high, you lean him against the counter and cross to the shower, running the water. When you turn to face him again, you see that he has been watching you — what you know would ordinarily be a moment that Dean would make sexual was instead something gentle. He is fascinated with every move you make, eyes taking in every inch of your body.

You cross towards him and help him remove the rest of his clothes before walking him towards the shower. As you begin to leave so you can allow him to shower, he grabs your wrist, the panic coming back into his eyes.

“Stay with me? Please, angel.” He has never called you that before, and mixed with his soft tone was enough to make you almost too weak to function. You force a smile to hide the tears that are starting to brim your eyes as you bring his hand to your mouth to kiss his palm.

Dean’s eyes never leave you as you remove your clothes and you feel an odd shyness under his gaze, but you shake the thoughts away. You both enter the shower and you release an audible sigh as the hot water pours over your skin. Dean, for the first time all night, smiles at you, which you return, reaching out to cup his face.

When you pull him closer, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, you hear a small whimper from him. He has never been so vulnerable with you before, and your urge to protect him intensifies. Carefully, you wash the blood from his face and along his neck, and notice the way he winces when you scrub near his shoulder. You take great care not to upset any injuries as you help him clean up, then face him towards the shower head as you stand behind him. You wrap your arms around his middle, and lean your cheek against his back. The both of you stand in silence as the water rains down on you.

“I’m gonna fix this,” Dean says, his voice cracking.

“ _ We  _ are gonna fix this, Dean.” He hums quietly and rubs his hands over your arms that still hold him close. “For now,” you begin, pressing a kiss to his tender shoulder. “We should get some rest. Then we can do this tomorrow when we’re energized, okay?”

“Okay.”

Once you dry off after your shower, you both dress in your pajamas, and climb into bed. For the first time, Dean snuggles his back against your chest, so you can hold him. The gesture makes you smile while also reiterating how fragile he truly is in the moment. You wrap one arm beneath him, letting your fingers gently stroke his hair, while your other hand rests under his shirt, stroking small circles on his stomach.

“I love you, Dean.”

“I love you, too, angel.”

“Hm, what happened to ‘princess’?” you ask with a smile. Dean huffs out a small chuckle.

“You’ll always be my princess,” he explains. “But tonight, you’re my guardian angel.”


	19. Chapter 19

You wake up feeling almost as tired as before, reaching out to Dean’s side of the bed. For a moment, you blindly search the sheets before opening your eyes. His side of the bed is cool and he’s nowhere to be found. The memories of the night before come crashing through and your blood runs cold. 

Jumping out of the bed, you rush to the bathroom, checking there first, and then to the kitchen. His keys are gone, Joe’s car is gone. You’re alone in the house and you are only barely able to keep yourself from crying.

“He’s okay,” you speak aloud, mainly to trick yourself into believing it. “Dean’s fine, he’s okay.”

You decide to call the office, but as the line rings, you remember that no one will be in, and Dean probably wouldn’t answer, even if he was there.

“He’s okay.”

You can feel yourself begin to crumble. You have no clue where he could be and no way to contact him. 

_What if Tim and Joe thought he knew too much?_

You have to shake your head to clear the thought. The tears begin to fall then, and you start shaking as you begin to pick up the phone. You’re not sure who you would call, but you feel the need to talk to someone. You begin to pull the address book out to find Dean’s parents’ number, rehearsing what you’ll say in your head.

_Hello there Mrs. Karny. I was just wondering if you’ve seen Dean recently? Or heard from him? I woke up to him gone from the house and no note. If you hear from him, let me know. He may be in trouble._

You’ve only dialed a couple numbers when you hear the door open and then close shut again. Slamming the phone down, you run to the entryway, terrified of what you’ll see, but still hopeful that it will be Dean.

When you see that it is him, tired and broken, you almost collapse to your knees. You find the strength to rush to him, engulfing him in an embrace.

“Hey, princess,” he whispers into your hair as he hugs back. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You repeat as you look up at him. “Dean, I was terrified! Where were you?”

He lets out a deep sigh, “sorry, I didn’t think about that. I went to the police.”

“The police?” The words hit you square in your chest as you process what it could mean.

He takes your hand, leading you to the bedroom. “I just need you and the bed right now, I don’t want to think about the other parts of this house.”

“Dean, what did you tell the police?”

He sits on the edge of the bed and you sit next to him while he rubs his face with his hands, “I told them.”

You suck in a breath, “baby, what did you tell them?”

“When I opened the box, the Persian was dead. Joe killed Ron, and he was going to kill me too if I didn’t help him. I tried to save the guy,” he shakes his head. “They need me to come in again tomorrow. Tell the whole story again. And...and they asked me to bring you, too. I told them you thought I had been mugged last night, that I hadn’t told you.”

“They want me to come in?”

“I’m sorry, princess, I should have never involved you,” his voice is strained as he tries not to cry. “I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

“From the beginning?” You move around a little to face him, sitting criss cross. “Baby, what do you mean?”

“The BBC is… Was. The BBC was a Ponzi scheme.”

That hits you hard, you knew there was something weird going on, but you never expected that. When you don’t respond right away, you see Dean wipe a hand across his cheek and you know he’s crying again. He continues to tell you, letting you know how BBC started. Taking the money that was from Kyle’s car to Joe. Joe investing it in gold and losing half of it. Lying to the other guys, getting them to pull in more investors, getting Ron Levin to invest. Though you knew about his fake money, it started to make more sense.

“We were hoping to eventually make it honest,” he tells you, and you believe that, “we just got caught up in the thought of money. Congenco was going to be what helped us pull out of it and pay the investors back. But we didn’t have the money. We thought we had Ron’s money. Izzy told us… He said if we helped his dad get out of San Francisco, he would give us money. The Persian...”

As he trails off, you take Dean’s hand with one of your own and use your other to cup his cheek, coaxing him to look towards you. “What do I need to tell the police?”

“I saw Joe,” he whispers, a barely there broken whisper. “They were arresting him, bringing him in, while I was leaving. He knows.”

“He can’t do anything to you, baby,” you assure him, rubbing your thumb on his cheekbone. “I need you to tell me what I should say. Do they think you’re coming clean to me today?”

“Yes.”

“When you opened the box, he was dead,” you repeat the same thing you had told him yesterday, “Joe threatened you.”

“Joe also threatened you,” he whispers. “That’s what I told them. He would kill both of us if I didn’t help him.”

You nod and look into his eyes. They weren’t glazed over like they had been the previous night. “Baby, you’re sober right now, yeah?”

He nods, “I want to quit. I tried… I tried another drug last night before I ki— Before Joe killed him. It fucked me up a lot more than I thought.”

“What did you take?”

Dean looks embarrassed, something you don’t see very often. He chews his bottom lip before he finally tells you, “heroin. That black tar stuff. I was having withdrawals and thought it would help.”

“Dean,” you say gently, you can tell he was hurting, “where did you get that?”

“The Persian had it. I don’t have any more of it.”

You nod and move a little closer to him, “you really want to quit?”

“Yes.” He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, “I need you to help me, angel.”

“I’ll always help you, baby.” You pull away a little to take his face into your hands and place a kiss on his lips. “I’m always here.”

Dean’s chin trembles a little and tears begin to well up again.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“There’s a chance I won’t be here for much longer.”

Your face wrinkles in confusion and you try not to panic at what he was saying. Your heart stops and your blood runs cold again. “What do you mean?”

“I’m… I’m going to be a witness in the trial against Joe. They might put me in witness protection.” His tears fall more freely now.

It takes every ounce of you to keep yourself from crying. The threat of him being taken away from you has you feeling faint. This was all too much.

Shaking your head, you grip his hands tighter, “let’s see them try taking you away from me.”


	20. Chapter 20

You chew at the inside of your cheek. Dean’s hand has become sweaty in your tight grasp, but you don’t mind it.

In a million years, you would have never guessed that you, the quiet honor roll student from the Valley, would be in the Los Angeles police station, sitting at an interrogation table. The detectives that had questioned Dean yesterday had greeted the two of you and then lead you to the room. They asked if you needed any coffee, and went to go get some for themselves when you had said no.

“You’re okay, princess,” Dean whispers, “you’re just going to tell them what you know.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m just nervous about being here.”

He pulls your intertwined hands up to his mouth to press a kiss on the back of your hand. You’ve seen Dean on very little sleep before, but nothing like this. He is  _ tired _ . The bags under his eyes are darker than you’d ever seen and his usual charm has subsided. He’s quiet and reserved. While you fully understand why he must be so exhausted, you can’t help but to be slightly worried.

“Mr. Karny,” the taller of the detectives starts as he walks through the door. “There’s a Mr. Johnson from the state attorney’s office here to question you. He’ll be right in. You’ve just got to tell the story from yesterday.”

“Okay,” Dean breathes, squeezing your hand before letting go. The other man walks into the room and announces his name. Dean stands to shake the man’s hand and introduce himself, so you follow suit.

“Please, sit down.” He sits across the table with the two detectives. “As you know we are investigating the murders of… Mr. Levin and… Mr. Samedi. I heard the tapes from yesterday, Mr. Karny, and I must say, this is an interesting story. A Ponzi scheme, threats on lives, murders… Let’s start with the company, BBC.”

Dean begins to tell him about Joe’s “paradox philosophy” and the first investors. He continues on to explain that Charlie, Kyle, and Scott had no idea what was happening. He looks to you and speaks your name, beginning to defend you as well, but the attorney cuts him off and asks you directly.

“I was just the secretary. The only time I ever dealt with any kind of money was to book flights and order lunch in. I only scheduled meetings, took messages, restocked office supplies, and filed contracts.”

“And what did you know about Ron Levin?”

You pause a moment to think, “Ron...was nice to me. I housesat for him once, took care of his dog. But I didn’t interact with him too often outside of the office otherwise. Dean and Joe had told me that his money wasn’t real. That the account he invested into the BBC wasn’t real. I assumed, after I heard that, he wouldn’t be an investor anymore, so I didn’t expect anymore calls from him. Joe’s girlfriend —ex girlfriend now— had asked me if I heard from him, but I didn’t think much of it.”

“And Mr. Hunt’s ex, what’s her name?”

“Syd Evans,” you tell him, wondering if you should have said anything about her. Dean didn’t look bothered by it. 

“And the four of you lived together?”

“Yes, she moved out a couple nights ago.”

“Why?”

You frown, “she left Joe. She wasn’t happy anymore. I wasn’t really friends with her; she hates Dean and would treat him terribly, even when I was around. So I couldn’t really tell you how long she wasn’t happy.”

He nods and looks back down to his papers. “And Mr. Karny, when was the last time you had heard from Mr. Levin?”

Dean begins to tell him about the final meeting the BBC had with Ron and the first meeting without him. When he mentioned Joe made a list of things to do to get back at and kill Ron, your heart stopped. You had heard part of that meeting, and you knew the boys were letting off steam. You heard Dean talk about killing Kosher to torture him, but you knew your boyfriend wouldn’t do that. You also knew Joe had been writing something down, and you’re sure he didn’t have the balls to actually pull the trigger, even if he had been wronged. Tim must have been the one to do the dirty work. Though, Dean doesn’t mention the bodyguard.

“Were you in that meeting?” One of the detectives looks at you, speaking up for the first time.

“No,” you tell him, “I was manning the phones.”

The attorney begins to ask Dean about the Persian. He tells him the story about going to San Francisco and how Joe threatened to kill Dean and yourself if he didn’t help him with it.

“I tried to save the guy,” Dean tells him with tears welling in his eyes, “I drove holes through the top of the trunk with a screwdriver. I was hoping he’d get oxygen that way, that it would somehow help. I didn’t want anyone to die. When we got to LA, Joe opened the trunk and...and he was dead.”

Dean’s openly crying now, and you reach a hand out to his shoulder, rubbing softly. You’re not sure if you can speak, but you need him to know you’re here. When his crying becomes incoherent again, you can’t help but to comfort him.

“Baby, you’re okay, you need to tell them what happened. You’re doing so well.”

“Would you like some water, Mr. Karny?” One of the detectives is already leaving the room to get it and the other pushes a box of tissues towards you. You grab one to hand to Dean.

You try to console him again, “Dean, it’s okay, we’re okay.”

“I couldn’t lose you,” he finally tells you, “Joe told me he’d kill you, angel, I couldn’t let him do that.”

“Look, I’m safe,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice even while tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. You grab another tissue for yourself and dab at your eyes.

“Mr. Karny, I realize this is difficult,” Mr. Johnson begins, “but I do have a few more questions. Do you need a minute or two to gather yourself?”

“Just the water,” your boyfriend tells him, “I’ll be fine after that.”

The attorney nods and begins to scribble some notes down during the silence, but then he turns to you. “And when did you find out about all this?”

“Dean came home hurt and upset two nights ago. The same day Syd moved out. He told me he had been mugged,” you look at Dean for a moment, “but yesterday, he came home from being here and told me everything.”

“And you’re still with him?”

You furrow your brow, almost unsure you had heard him correctly. “Of course. I love him, and I know Dean would never hurt anyone. His life was threatened.”

He nods again and scribbles something down. The water is brought in, and you’re thankful for the interruption. You were almost angry at him. Dean takes a drink of his water before addressing the man again.

“I’m okay to continue now, Mr. Johnson.”

“Of course,” he looks back at his file, and continues to question Dean. This goes for about thirty minutes before he addresses you again. “What can you tell me about Mr. Hunt?”

“Apart from what Dean has said already, I thought he was a good guy when I met him. I interviewed with him to get the job. He and I have similar backgrounds; we were scholarship kids from the Valley. He was nice to me, like a normal ‘boyfriend’s best friend’ type.” You pause for just a moment, “I think, if he had stayed in the Valley and out of this kind of business, he may have still been a good guy, but he got caught up in the schemes and got over his head and didn’t know how to get out. So he killed people. He threatened lives and stole money.”

“From what you observed, was he ever violent towards Miss Evans?”

“I never saw him physically violent. Syd told me he punched the wall when he found out about Ron screwing the company over. And I saw him snap at Dean a couple times. But I never saw him hit anyone, especially not Syd. He was only ever gentle with her.”

With a hum, Mr. Johnson writes that down and continues to ask questions that you don’t think are especially important. But eventually, he looks to Dean and says something that piques your interest.

“The State of California is going to put you into Witness Protection after the trial and sentencing, Mr. Karny. From the evidence and questioning we’ve gathered so far, it looks like you’re the only one viable for it.”

Dean looks at you and you see the desperation in his eyes, you know you’ve got the same look on your own face and you can’t breathe. You swear the world stops and you hear a ringing, the bomb of an announcement hits you in the stomach first.  _ He’s the only one who can get in. He’s going to be taken from you. _

“What do you mean?” He finally asks, and then the next part throws you, “she’s my fiancée, we’re getting married.”

Mr. Johnson raises an eyebrow and looks to your left hand, “I was under the impression the two of you were just dating.”

“No,” you answer, taking Dean’s hand, “we’re engaged. He asked about a week ago, the ring wasn’t sized right. We were thinking about a wedding in six months, but if the trial’s going to make that hard, we’ll have to change the plans around.”

Your boyfriend nods along with you, looking at you with adoration and softness. It almost scares you how readily the two of you had this lie without talking about it before. But at the same time, your heart is soaring. Dean wants you. He can’t lose you.

“Congratulations to the both of you,” he nods and scratches something out in his notes, writing above it. “Marriage is truly special. I should get going, I’ll be in touch.”

The detectives help him gather his stuff and escort him out. One of them stays with the two of you and has you fill out some paperwork before they allow you to leave.

“Let’s get lunch,” Dean whispers as you walk out of the station. “I didn’t eat anything this morning.”

You check the watch he had gotten you for Christmas to find it’s already well past two. “You must be starving. You wanna bring it back home and eat there, or at the restaurant?”

“Up to you.” He holds out his keys. “Can you drive? I want to close my eyes for a bit.”

“You sure?”

He nods, headed towards the passenger side and sliding into the seat. You haven’t had to drive since he came back from Chicago. He liked driving more than you, so when he asks, you are slightly worried.

You’re careful as you adjust the mirrors and seat. You keep focus solely on the road while you drive to the freeway. Once you’re on, you cast a quick glance to Dean. He’s got his head tipped back against the seat and his eyes are closed, jaw slack and his breathing steady and slow.

Deciding not to interrupt his nap, you drive to an exit near the house and get some drive thru food. You try to be quiet while ordering.

“ _ Okay, two burger combos. One with Coke, one with a Diet? Anything else?” _ the scratchy voice in the speaker asks you.

“Get me a chocolate shake, sugar.” Dean’s voice is quiet and soft, you almost don’t hear him.

You reach your arm back to squeeze his knee while you order two shakes instead of soft drinks. The voice gives you your total and you thank them before pulling forward.

“Thanks, princess,” he mumbles as he shuts his eyes again.

“After we eat, you wanna try doing something productive, baby?” You glance at him again. “I think apartment listings might be a good thing to start with.”

“We’ll see after.” He opens his eyes and rolls his head to look at you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dean.”

He smiles just slightly and raises his eyebrows as he sees the person handing you the food.

“Thank you,” you tell them and pass the bag to Dean and then grab the shakes. “Have a good day.”

Once you’re driving away, Dean opens the bag to pull out a few fries, offering one to you. He feeds it to you and actually lets out a laugh; the first one in days. And for a moment, everything was simple and back to normal. 

When you pull up to the house, his smile fades again, and you’re worried for him. The house would just continuously remind him of Joe and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about ‘what if he sends Tim’ on more than one occasion. 

“How about this,” you whisper as you watch him, “what if we eat and pack a bag, then go check into a hotel for tonight? We need some relaxation, and I know you’re not sleeping much, baby, and I’m worried for you. We can look at listings for apartments from there and then go look at them after checkout time in the morning.”

“That sounds good,” he nods, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”

You smile at him and lean forward to kiss him softly. “C’mon, your shake’s gonna get warm.”

The two of you go inside and Dean heads straight to the bedroom. You follow him and toe off your shoes. You watch him strip down to his briefs, and you follow suit, joining him on the bed and unwrapping your burger.

“So,” you say between bites, “I’m your fiancée now, then?”

“Shit.” He shakes his head. “It kind of just slipped out. I couldn’t lose you, princess. I know it’s a long way away, but I couldn’t even bear thinking about how much that would hurt. And I could see you just...walking out if you knew that we couldn’t be together.”

“Firstly,” you interrupt, “you are much more exhausted than you look if you really got it in your head that I would leave you after that. Secondly, I don’t want to lose you either, baby. I’m really glad you said that.”

“This isn’t how I wanted to do it,” he mumbles as he turns to his nightstand and opens the drawer. Dean pulls out a small box, and even though you knew exactly what was happening, your heart speeds up and your eyes begin to well. He speaks your name clearly and you’re already nodding. “I love you. I have never loved anyone else as much as I love you. I can’t even believe how amazing you make me feel. You’ve never treated me like Mean Dean. You’re beautiful and brilliant and funny and...you’re amazing in bed.”

“Oh god, Dean.”

“I promise I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always protect you and help you with anything you want. Although, I doubt you’ll need much help since you’re the smartest person I know. I also think your name would sound even better with ‘Karny’ at the end of it, even if it’s only for a short time before it’s something else. Will you marry me?”

You nod, looking down at the ring. “Yes, I will!”

He takes the ring out of the box and takes your hand. He slips it onto your finger slowly, his hand gripping your hand tight to keep it from shaking as much. The simple, singular diamond is something you wouldn’t have expected from Dean, but it feels right.

“I love you,” you whisper. “So fucking much, Dean.”

“I love you more,” he whispers as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. “I’m so glad you said yes.”

You take a deep breath in, “I’m glad I took that job.”


End file.
